Ghosts of Seasons Past
by Pookieh
Summary: The evening has been uncharacteristically hot for mid-May. What is even more uncharacteristic about this evening is me…here…with him. This was the last thing I expected to happen during my summer break that was supposed to be spent catching up with Prim and laying low around town in hopes of not running into anyone from my childhood. - This is an AU Everlark Story.
1. Chapter 1

_**This fanfic is rated 'M' for language and future sexual content. I do not own any of the characters or the Hunger Games.**_

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**Chapter 1: The Return**

The evening has been uncharacteristically hot for mid-May. What is even more uncharacteristic about this evening is me…here…with him. This was the last thing I expected to happen during my summer break that was supposed to be spent catching up with Prim and laying low around town in hopes of not running into anyone from my childhood.

I was at the grocery store picking up some last minute ingredients for my mother for dinner two nights ago when I turned down the spice aisle and saw him. He was looking down at a bottle of something as I quickly retreated to the end of the aisle before he noticed me. His blond hair looked the same as always, naturally mussed up. Other guys try to achieve the same look through expensive styling products but he achieves it by just rolling out of bed. He was dressed in a grey band t-shirt that was tight against his arms with dark blue jeans that happened to hug him in all the right places. His face had a day worth of stubble starting to show which was new to me. He used to always be clean shaven but quickly decided that I find the rugged look suits him just as much.

As carefully and quietly as possible, I peer around the corner of the aisle to see if he was still there and almost internally combust when his unnaturally blue eyes look up to meet mine for a brief instant. My face turns beet red and I almost smack head first into an old man behind me as I try to turn and run for my life.

"Katniss Everdeen?" I hear his smooth voice closer than I expected and I finally turn around to see him jogging towards me with a goofy grin on his face. Why is this happening to me? This was just supposed to be a quick in and out job to the store. I had avoided running into anyone from my childhood which is quite impressive in this small town. I take a deep breath and plaster on my best fake smile possible and wave pathetically. When he's finally not more than two feet in front of me I notice that he looks a bit taller and more muscular than when I last saw him. Not a hard accomplishment I guess for a guy like Peeta Mellark.

"I didn't know you were back in town! How long have you been back? How have you been?" The enthusiasm in his voice makes me somehow feel guilty for not making my presence known to anyone besides by family. I didn't even tell Annie and Johanna that I was back in town until yesterday and I've already been back for a week.

"Uh, I got back about a week ago. I haven't really been out much, just been catching up with the family and spending time with Prim." My reply almost comes out in a whisper and he has to lean closer to hear me. He smells of sweat and cinnamon, he must have been working at the bakery today. It wouldn't surprise me if one day he takes it over from his dad, he's always seemed to be at home there, more so than at his actual house.

"Oh of course, of course. How is Prim by the way? I see her at the bakery once in awhile." I start to feel like the air is getting thicker despite the heat and that I'm gasping to breath. How is it that I'm only in his presence for not more than two minutes and I'm already feeling guilty, light headed, and like crawling up in hole to hide? It doesn't help that he just smells so…_good_. Ugh, what did I do to deserve this punishment?

"She's fine, everyone is fine. Speaking of which, I need to get back home, kind of in a hurry. My mother's waiting on me so she can make dinner. Nice seeing you Peeta." I turn to shuffle away as quickly as possible but his hand catches my arm. His fingers feel calloused but his grip is gentle. I slump in defeat and turn back around.

"Katniss, what are you doing later? Finnick is having a party later tonight, maybe you'd like to come by and see some of the old faces from school? It's supposed to be pretty casual so don't feel like you have to dress up or anything special. I think Annie, Johanna, and Madge are going to be there too." He waits for a response as I try to think up an excuse to get out of this never ending awkward situation.

"Um, I'm kind of busy tonight. I told Prim I'd hang out with her, you know, girls night thing." Perfect excuse. He can't make me feel guilty for wanting to hang out with Prim, now can he. It's kind of the truth. Prim is having a girls night with Rue tonight, but that doesn't mean I can't join them.

"That's cool, well maybe some other time then." He has yet to look away from my eyes, his tongue darts quickly out to lick his bottom lip. He shifts and I notice his jaw clench, it's his tell for when he's disappointed, but that doesn't stop me from the relief that washes over me.

"Yeah, maybe another time then. See you later. Nice seeing you Peeta." I do a little victory dance in my head as I turn to leave again but his voice interrupts my internal gloating.

"How about a movie on Monday? They have a show playing at 3:00 pm, maybe we could grab a bite to eat after..."

Before he can continue I spit out, "Yeah sure, sounds good, see you then." I almost sprint to the cashier in hopes of getting away before something else happens. I turn around as I'm paying for the groceries hoping not to see him but I catch Peeta in the corner of my eye giving me a wave and that goofy grin again. Ugh, why does he have to do that? What did I just agree to? How am I going to get out of this one?

When I get home that evening Prim notices that I'm being extra quiet and being the every so perfect…and nosy sister that she is, coaxes me to relive the whole awkward chain of events that lead to my current predicament.

"You should go with him to the movies Katniss! You have barely left the house since you got here." She's right. I've only really left the house to get the occasional groceries for my mother or to get some fresh air out in the woods behind our house. But I'm totally content not getting out, not being seen. It gives me time to clear my head and think. After the year I just had at school, from exams to my recent failed attempt at a relationship with Gale, I just need to be alone with my thoughts.

"You still haven't even seen Annie or Johanna yet, you can't continue to make excuses to avoid everyone forever." She's wrong, I _can_ do that. That's what I've been doing ever since high school, when I left this god forsaken town…and the likes of Peeta Mellark.

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**Author's Note:** Hello! So this is my very first fanfic…ever, so I hope some of you like it and please feel free to review and maybe cut me some slack if you don't like it?! If you haven't figured out already, it's an Everlark AU and I have a story line already planned out in my head so hopefully things go as planned and you'll enjoy the ride. Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**_This fanfic is rated 'M' for language and future sexual content. I do not own any of the characters or the Hunger Games._**

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**Chapter 2: Girls Night**

So it turns out going to Finnick's party might not have been such a bad idea after all. My father missed dinner again, he's been working late at the quarry this past week and my mother could only sigh in disappointment at his empty place setting. Sometimes I don't get her. My father is her first and only love. How could anyone possibly only love one person for their entire life? Don't get me wrong, it's great that my parents found each other but I don't think I could ever rely on someone else that much let alone the whole marriage thing.

Rue shows up shortly after Prim and I have washed up and put the dishes away. I still remember the day Prim came home from school blabbering about her new best friend Rue. When she was young, it wasn't out of the ordinary for Prim to have a new best friend every day since they were always imaginary. My father told me to just humor her so I always did. But that day surprised me when there was an actual living breathing person in our kitchen whose name really was Rue. They've been inseparable ever since.

"So, I think turquoise is totally your color Katniss." Rue shoves a bright blue bottle of nail polish in my face. I wave her off implying to make another color choice. "Hmmm…how about fuchsia? It would go great with your eyes you know." Really? Fuchsia? What happened to the days when nail polish just came in shades of red?

"How about black," I mutter under my breath. It'll match my mood. This girls night isn't turning out as I expected. God knows I love Rue like she really was my little sister but as soon as I saw Rue open up her backpack filled with a rainbow of nail polish and eye shadows, I wished she'd stayed at home. I knew things were going to go downhill, and fast.

I've never been a really girly girl. Maybe it was because my mother was always trying to dress me up like I was her own living Barbie doll. She was obsessed with dresses with matching bows for my braids and shoes and to make it worse she would like to document it all by snapping photos of my outfits all the time. I have a scowl in every single photo. I eventually reached an age that I realized I could put up enough of a fuss that she finally let me dress myself. Thank god Prim came along when she did; she's always been the spitting image of Barbie, petite, perfect shiny blond hair, and blue eyes. Me on the other hand, my plain dark brown hair and olive skin always made me stick out like a sore thumb in our family. I swear I used to think I was adopted or switched at birth or something.

"So I heard Finnick is having a party tonight, are you going Katniss?" How would Rue know about that? She's only fifteen. I feel like even though I get older every year, Prim and Rue always appear to stay the same age in my mind. "Thresh is going." Oh yeah. Her brother Thresh, he's only a year older than me but he was always hanging around the guys in my class when we were younger.

"Nah, I don't really feel up to hanging around a bunch of high school acquaintances while they get drunk and high and fall all over each other." I only really kept in touch with Johanna, Annie, and Madge after leaving for university, even that was hard to do since I'm not really a phone person and couldn't be bothered to spend money to call them every week just to hear about the on goings of our little town. I got all the information I needed from Prim, sweet and polite as she is, she's always been one for gossip so I was never out of the loop.

Prim gives me an innocent yet borderline sly smile, "You mean you don't really feel like trying to spend the whole night avoiding a certain blue eyed, blonde by the name of…"

"Enough Prim," I spit out with a scowl on my face and daggers in my eyes. I look down at my toes and she's caused me to smudge the dark purple nail polish I finally settled for from Rue's collection. "Look at what you made me do."

Rue continues to concentrate on the manicure she's giving herself but turns away for a second, "Who? Oh…OH!" Her face fills with understanding as she abandons her nail file and slumps on the floor across from me with bright eyes and a big grin. "Have you seen him since you've been back? He's working at the bakery full time for the summer you know, I stop by every other day to pick up a loaf of sourdough for my Mom and I always make sure I go when he's there. My God I think he seems to get hotter and hotter every time I see him!"

I've heard enough, it's one thing to sit here and take the inquisition from Prim, but from the both of them? And why would Rue be keeping tabs on him anyways? It makes me feel weird to hear Rue talk like that about a guy, let alone him. Things have really changed this past year. They've both grown up so much while I was away at school. One day they were playing dolls in the living room and the next they're sitting on the couch reading cosmo while playing fuck, chuck, or marry.

"Yeah, yeah, I saw him and he doesn't look any different than when I left." I lie through my teeth. Truth is he looks much different from what I remembered. Better. Better than I remembered. I didn't think that was even possible. I internally scold myself for thinking about how his butt looked in those jeans today at the grocery store. And his arms, definitely more defined than I remembered. It must be from working at the bakery. Why am I even thinking about him? Ugh. "You know what, you two are starting to get on my nerves, I'm going to call Johanna and see what she's up to." With that I cap the nail polish and escape to my room.

It hasn't changed much since my childhood. My room still looks the same. Same high school photos litter the walls along with boy band posters from groups I still hate to admit that I love. I haven't really looked at the photos in awhile but I find myself reliving old memories from parties and school trips when my eyes find one of me, Annie, Johanna, and Finnick. It was from Finnick's last crazy party after high school before everyone went off to college and university, but I don't remember the photo being taken. I looked so happy back then. What happened to me? When did my life start to get so complicated? When did I get so cynical? Then I spot the start of it all. In the background of the picture off to the side of our group is Delly with her arms flung around someone…Peeta Mellark. I stare at the photo for a moment longer before grabbing it off the wall and tearing it into tiny pieces that scatter across my floor. I flop down on my bed and bury my head in the pillows with a huff. I was so wasted that night at the party. I don't even remember how I got home…oh yeah, Johanna.

I pick up my phone and before my brain can comprehend what my fingers are doing I hear someone pick up and a harsh voice across the line, "Hey brainless, took you long enough to call me. Bitch." I laugh into the phone, always the charmer Johanna. "So you've finally decided to crawl out of that hole you've been living in for the past year? You know, if I were anyone else I'd think you didn't like me." Oh Johanna, she's the only one that ever really understood my reasons for wanting to leave this town and never come back. Even though I was a lousy friend this past year, she never held it against me for not keeping in touch as much as she would have liked but whenever I came home to visit our friendship would pick up like nothing had happened. That's what I like about our friendship, it's not complicated.

I take a deep breath and say through my teeth, "So, are you doing anything tonight? Prim and Rue are driving me nuts and I think my room is slowly closing in on me as we speak. Wanna get out for a bit?" I hope she can sense the hope in my voice to ask about the party, although I don't understand why I want to go really. Maybe I'm having an adult moment and feel like I can put aside the high school ghosts that plague my past. Or maybe curiosity is finally getting the better of me. Oh who am I kidding, definitely the latter.

"I'll pick you up in half an hour. Wash that rats nest of a head of hair I know you have going on and wear something hot. We're going to Finnick's party." I hear a click and the line goes dead. Damn it, she knows me too well. I lug myself off my bed and hop into the shower and try to figure out what to wear. I don't own anything _hot_. I'm more of a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl and have never been one for attention. That part of me hasn't changed.

I hear Prim and Rue giggling down the hall and turn around from my closet just in time to see them hovering in the doorway. "The dark skinny jeans and you can borrow my black sweater. You'll look hot in it, better than me anyways. Black has always looked better on you than me." And with that a black sweater flies in my direction and they're gone. I throw on the outfit suggested by Prim and braid my hair. I don't look _too_ bad I guess, maybe some eye liner and mascara would help. What am I doing? I don't really ever wear makeup in the first place, why am I suddenly so concerned about how I look? Before I have time to rethink it, I hear Johanna's old clunker of a truck park in front of my house. Screw it. I grab a jacket on the way out just in case and hop into the passenger seat.

"Lookin' good Everdeen! When did you finally get some fashion sense?" Johanna snorts in amusement.

I give her the finger and frown. "It's Prim's, why would I own anything like this."

"You never know, people change sometimes. Don't worry, no one's seen you in over a year, maybe you'll pass as some hot new girl in town and all the guys will want to get in you pants." I hope she's right. The part about no one recognizing me that is, not the part about guys wanting to get in my pants.

"So who's going to be there that we know?" I'm fishing and she knows it.

"The usual. Annie and Madge are meeting us there. Not much has changed really you know. The jocks like Cato and Marvel are still jocks, the bitches like Delly, Glimmer, and Clove are still bitches…the joys of living in a small town." I nod in agreement and channel search the radio trying to find something decent to listen to. We pass the the short drive to Finnick's in silence. I stare out at the streets of my hometown, not sure what I'm looking for really. As expected, everything looks the same. The houses. The downtown shops. The people.

Johanna bats my hand away from the stereo and settles for some indie song I've never heard. "You're either really nervous or I'm the most boring person in the world. What's with the silent treatment Everdeen? This isn't about him is it? He's going to be there you know."

"I know, I know. I ran into him at the grocery store today. He kind of invited me to go."

"Oh really. But you thought I'd make a better date. I'm flattered." She doesn't miss a step does she. "Katniss, listen…" She never uses my first name unless she's serious. "It's been over a year, what happened in the past is done and gone. Why dwell on it? Don't torture yourself about it."

"I'm not torturing myself!" I squeak. Great, I'm building myself up so much my voice is squeaking. "I just hate crowds, you know that. I don't want to be the center of attention and that's what will happen, guaranteed. Why do you care anyways?"

Johanna rolls her eyes and laughs. "You're right. Besides myself, Finnick, Annie, and maybe Madge, no one really cares about you I guess. Except…maybe one other person I know."

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**Author's Note:** Thank you so much to all of you who took the time to read my story! It means so much to me, it melts my heart, sniff sniff :) This was actually part of Chapter 1 but I thought it would be too long for an intro chapter, hence the quick update. I'm not sure how regularly I will be able to post chapters, but Chapter 3 is already underway. Don't worry, Peeta will be making a reappearance in the next chapter! Thanks again for reading and please feel free to review!


	3. Chapter 3

**__****This fanfic is rated 'M' for language and future sexual content. I do not own any of the characters or the Hunger Games.**

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**Chapter 3: The Party**

As we approach Finnick's house, I recall a number of nights stumbling home drunk from his house with Johannna…or more like me dragging her drunk ass back home. The street is littered with cars, some beat up like the smokin hot chariot we're riding in and some with foreign names I can't even try to pronounce.

Finnick's not the richest kid that we went to school with, but that doesn't mean he wasn't denied a privileged and sheltered life. The Odair's own a swimming pool company that specializes in those fancy nature like pools and the ones where the edge seems to meet the horizon. He was on the swim team too, not ironic at all. I've known him since first grade. He tried to dunk me at the local pool one day but when I came up for air with fists clenched, I knocked the wind right out of him. He just laughed and said I fight like a boy. We've been close friends ever since.

I can hear voices and the bass thumping as we round the corner and walk up the house. I recognize Madge's car parked along the street. She was the first of us to get wheels so she was my ride anywhere and everywhere back in the day. Madge's dad is the town mayor. Unfortunately for her though, her last name came with a stigma when it came to social crowds. People wanted to be her friend just because of her family's social standing, but the cool kids would never invite her to parties because if things got out of hand while she was there, the whole town knew about it. Since I wasn't a cool kid and didn't host parties, I saw no problem hanging out with her. We somehow always ended up as partners in school for labs and stuff, so in a way we were always stuck together. She didn't mind hanging out with me though which helped.

"Johanna! You made it! Who's that with you? Is that…Katniss?" Madge leaps off the porch, drink in hand, and slams into me with a hug. "I didn't know you were coming! Hell, I didn't even know you were back in town until Annie told me! I missed you!" By the tone of her voice I can tell she's not quite drunk yet so her affections are actually somewhat genuine, she actually missed me. Maybe this party won't be too bad. I can finally catch up with Madge and Annie. Speaking of Annie, a stunning brunette quietly walks over and nudges me in the arm, "Good to see you Katniss."

"Annie?! I barely recognized you! You look amazing!" She blushes at the compliment and smiles sweetly. Annie was always a shy, thin girl. Not anorexic or anything but just naturally thin, no matter how much junk food she ate. I'm sure that's what made other girls jealous, they used to make fun of her by saying things like "don't walk by her too fast, she'll blow away" or "why don't you try eating something Orphan Annie." I don't get why they said that, she doesn't have red hair and Annie isn't an orphan. Her dad left when she was only two but her mom and grandparents more than made up for an absentee father. The Annie now standing in front of me looked like she had gained a few pounds but just enough in the right places to make her look womanly. I'm not surprised to see Finnick less than five feet away, wiggling his eyebrows at me and flashing his cheeky smile.

"So, are you two finally an item?" I whisper under my breath as I nod my head in Finnick's direction. Annie starts to blush as she shakes her head, no.

Finnick leaps off the porch and wraps me up in a bear hug and pecks my cheek. I can't deny that Finnick is a good looking guy. Like model type good looking, but he was just never my type. I think that's why we got along so well and were able to be close friends. Everyone says he's cocky but I know the real Finnick. Deep down he's really the sweetest guy ever who'd do anything for his friends. "I'm so glad you made it Katniss! I almost didn't recognize your hot ass in those jeans! Give me a minute and I'll help you get rid of them!" And that's why his reputation still stands. I smile and peck him back on the cheek. "Mellark mentioned that you were back and said he invited you but you were busy with Prim or something…how is little Prim by the way?" He wiggles his eyebrows and winks.

My muscles instantly stiffen at the mention of his name but try to relax them without look suspicious. "Don't go there Finnick, my little sister's way too young for you."

"Calm down now, you know I was only kidding. Prim is like a little sister to me too you know. Anyways, I'm glad you came, find me later and we'll catch up, OK?" I nod my head as he barrels back up the porch stairs yelling something about it keg stands.

The door slowly shuts and that's when I spot him. His back is to me but I know it's him. The unruly blonde hair is unmistakable. Besides from the hair, how could anyone not recognize that ass? My internal monologue is starting to make me think that Finnick actually did rub off a bit on me while growing up. He's got on the same dark jeans from this afternoon but changed up his shirt for a black and white classic style baseball tee. How does he make sportswear look so damn sexy? Ugh, why do I even care?

"Ya know. You might want to shut that trap of yours. You're starting to drool." Johanna taps my jaw and I realize that I've been caught staring. I look away quickly trying to act normal.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I mumble. "Let's get a drink already."

"Uh huh. Whatever you say Everdeen, lead the way!" We haven't even made it all the way up the porch before the door swings open again and out he walks. I stumble a bit and catch my foot on the stone steps. Instinctively, I fling my hands out to brace myself for the fall but before I can feel the sting of the stone steps, a pair of warm calloused hands are on my arms, catching me.

"Katniss! Are you OK?" His voice is laced with sincere concern and something else, something I can't put my finger on.

I quickly retract my hands and nod while waving him off. I'm not even here for five minutes and he's already saving me. I try not to look wounded but I think it comes off as annoyance. "Uh yeah I'm fine. Excuse us, time for a drink."

"Oh OK, I was on my way out to get Thresh, but he can wait a bit longer. I'm glad you changed your mind and decided to come out tonight Katniss. I hope you let Prim down easy." He winks and grins, amused by his own sarcasm. All I can muster up is a tight smile. "Can I get you ladies a drink before I leave?"

"Gin and tonic for me, thanks!" Madge hands him her empty cup.

"Nothing for me Peeta, thanks though," whispers Annie.

Johanna gives him a wink. "Whisky."

"And for you Katniss? Vodka cranberry?" His hand lightly touches the small of my back which sends shivers up my spine. How does he do that? And how does he know my drink of choice? I wasn't that much of a drinker in high school since I didn't have the taste for alcohol, but I eventually learned that if you put enough mix with it, I'll down anything no problem.

"Yeah, sounds good. Uh, thanks." I try not to let him see the wheels turning in my head as I try to figure him out. Why is he being so nice to me? Or is he? Isn't he nice to everyone? That's why everyone liked him. Everyone wanted to be his friend. His hand leaves my back and it immediately feels cold and empty, breaking my train of thought.

"I'll be right back with your drinks ladies." He turns on his heels and jumps up the porch steps two at a time. I unconsciously tilt my head and find myself staring at his backside again as he makes his way back inside the house. The way his jeans tighten with each step. I think I stop breathing for a moment. What is with me? I hear a snort behind me.

"Smooth Everdeen, real smooth." I smack Johanna in the arm as we finally make our way into the house.

Finnick's house hasn't changed much either. His mother's awful taste in old world European furniture has left much to be desired. The living room décor makes it look like a museum. The raging dance party going on in the middle of the room definitely looks out of place. We try to push our way through the crowd of drunken sweaty bodies and head the back of the house. Half way there, mother nature decides to make a call which leaves me splitting off to the side to get to the bathroom. "I gotta pee, I'll find you guys later," I yell back, hoping they heard me.

Just as I'm washing up and about to exit the bathroom, I hear a familiar annoyingly high pitched voice on the other side of the door. I lean my head against the door mentally willing it to go away.

"Did you see who's back? You'll never guess. Katniss Everdeen. I thought she left for good after graduation but nope, she's back and already trying to stake a claim." Delly Cartwright. The last time I saw her was at the party that I decided to leave scattered in little pieces on my bedroom floor.

"What are you talking about? Is she trying to make a move on him already?" I hear fake gasps of concern coming from Thing 1 and Thing 2, aka Glimmer and Clove, her trusty sidekicks. Him? Who are they talking about? I have absolutely no interest in whoever Delly is with or trying to get with. Who's left anyways?

"Are you kidding me? She's already falling all over him. I swear, if she thinks she can come back here with some new clothes that don't look like they came from the second hand store and try to act all smart around us just to make us look stupid around the guys just because she goes to some lame university, then she doesn't know what's coming!" By the slurring of some of her words I can tell that she's already had a few too many drinks. Damn lush.

Am I really hearing this? Is this really happening? It feels like high school all over again and it makes me want to puke. I was used to Delly and her crew making fun of me and anyone else who didn't wear the _right_ clothes, or live in the _right_ part of town, or drive the _right_ kind of car, let alone even own a car. She wasn't always like this though. At one time when we were younger we were actually good friends. She was part of our original class back in kindergarten and her bubbly personality back then was fun and cheerful, not bitchy and annoying like it is now. Sometime during third grade though, she decided I wasn't cool enough for her and kicked me to the curb and deemed me a social outcast. It didn't really bother me though. I still had Madge and Annie. She eventually joined the cheerleading squad and started hanging out with the jock crowd. I thought we'd all have grown up a little by now. Hmm…maybe I should take my own advice.

Before she can spit out another insult, I find my confidence and jerk the door open and stare at the trio with the best fake cheerleader smile plastered across my face. "Delly! Is that really you? I almost didn't recognize you! Have you put on some weight? Great seeing you, excuse me!" I shove my way past them, not evening turning to see their reactions. I could really use that drink right about now. I know that was a low blow, but what the hell, where did all that crap come from? Going after my clothes? And why is my school lame? Another reminder of why I left this town. I need to find Johanna, maybe she knows what the hell her problem is.

I search for Johanna, Annie, and Madge at the back of the house and finally spot them chatting on the back porch with Finnick and Peeta. Ugh, I almost forgot about him. I'm not in the mood for an emotional tug of war. I also didn't come here to be patronized by the likes of Delly and I certainly didn't come here to thrust myself back into another awkward situation. Then why was I here then? No one really notices me when I open the back door and start to make my way to the group. No one expect Peeta who looks over immediately and smiles when our eyes meet.

I take the only empty chair left, next to him of course. His eyes look bluer in the dark, they almost twinkle. Seriously? Who's eyes twinkle? He licks his bottom lip before joking, "We thought we lost you back there, I was about to send in a search party. I managed to save your drink though. The thought of having to hunt you down in that gross crowd of sweat and BO really worried me, I was seriously thinking about downing your drink to ease the pain." I try not to laugh at his dorky humor as he hands me the cup. I down it in two gulps, maybe the buzz will help clear my head.

He gets up to leave. Good, finally some breathing room. "I'll see you guys in a few, I really have to go get Thresh now." Suddenly he stops and slowly bends down towards my face until his lips are close to my ear. What. The. Fuck. "I really am happy that you decided to come tonight Katniss. Can we maybe talk when I get back?" His breath tickles my ear and causes a breath to catch in my throat. He looks me straight in the eye waiting for a response.

My answer comes out in a ragged whisper. "Uh, sure."

He chuckles and whispers back, "Perfect." He gently moves a strand of hair from my face that's come out from my braid and tucks it neatly behind my ear. His face is so close to mine, I can count his eyelashes. He still smells like cinnamon. I'm still staring into those amazing eyes as he rises and turns. He looks back one more time. I'm still staring and as a see a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. He gives me a small wave before disappearing back into the house. I remind myself to breath at that point. I drag my eyes back to the group and notice that Johanna is smirking at me. All the others are still chattering away about something. I don't think they saw anything. What am I talking about? What was there to see?

I look back to Johanna but this time her eyes are glued to the window behind me. I turn my head to follow her line of sight. Shit. Delly. She looks like she wants to tear my head off. Johanna jumps up and jerks me up out of my chair, dragging me back into the house. "Come on, we need to get you another drink."

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**Author's Note:** And there you go! I just joined tumblr so if you're interested you can check it out (see my profile page). I plan on posting fanfic related stuff there. Thanks again for reading and reviews are always welcome!


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** So this chapter was difficult for me to write. I actually had to shift some things around until I was happy with it, so it's actually quite longer than I intended for it to be. I didn't want to split it up so I hope you don't mind! Hopefully it will tie you all over until I get the next chapter sorted out. I started writing this story from the middle out, am I the only one who writes this way? Anyways, I hope you enjoy it and thank you so much for all the follows, favorites, and reviews! Please keep them coming! Now go read and enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** This fanfic is rated 'M' for language and future sexual content. I do not own any of the characters or the Hunger Games.

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**Chapter 4: What's Her Deal?**

"So that was…interesting." Johanna shoves another drink in my direction and takes a shot for herself.

I lean back against the counter and hold the cup against my face. The cold condensation feels good against my flushed cheeks. "What was interesting? Delly? Or Peeta…I _know_ you saw that."

"Both, but start with Delly first. She looked like someone shoved a pickle up her ass. Please tell me you punched her or something."

I in no way condone physical violence against women but sometimes Delly could really use a smack upside the head. "She's had a pickle up her ass since the third grade," I chuckle as I picture Delly's face in the window all scrunched up like a pug, not a flattering sight at all. "She was just blowing her mouth off about me when I was in the bathroom. She didn't know I was in there. I don't really care though. Oh yeah, who is she with now anyways? Or trying to get with? She's giving me too much credit by labeling me a harlot. Oh, and I also kinda called her fat."

"_Please_ tell me you're not joking! God I wish I had been there to see her reaction! About time someone besides me threw that shit back in her face." She high fives me and smacks my ass like I just scored a touchdown. "Well aren't you in for a treat then, which brings me to my next question. What were you and bread boy taking about back there? You looked like you wet your pants! And I'm not talking about pissing your pants either."

I take a sip of my drink but immediately spew it back out all over Mrs. Odair's marble floor. "Fuck Johanna! I did not! God, do you always have to be so crass? He just wants to talk when he gets back, that's all. Why? Is there something you're not telling me?"

"Delly's been trying to get in Peeta's pants for as long as I can remember brainless, you'd know that if you ever paid attention to anyone but yourself. Ever since you left it's like she's been on a mission but now that she knows you're back…oh god this is going to be a fun night! I'm sure she's got her panties all in a twist, you know, since he's been hanging off you like a lost puppy ever since we arrived. He won't give her the time of day when you're around." She takes another shot and slams the empty glass back down on the counter.

"She's been _trying_ to get in his pants? I thought that ship sailed already. Wait, don't answer that. I really don't want to know the details." I stare down into my cup and wonder how it's already empty again. I pour myself another one, stiffer this time. "We've only been here for twenty minutes and see? I was right. I told you this would happen. Why did I even come here?" I set my cup down clumsily, spilling half of it all over my hand and bury my face into my arms.

For the off chance that Johanna actually knows what she's talking about, that would at least explain why Delly looked like she wanted my head on a platter. When she saw us on the deck, she must have thought something was up when he was less than three inches away from my face touching my hair. It could have looked like we were having some kind of intimate moment I guess. But we weren't. Were we? He just wants to hang out.

"Why do you have to be such a fucking drama queen? I really don't know why you're acting like this. The guy of your dreams is acting like you're the only woman on earth, so who gives a shit what Delly thinks? He doesn't want her. He wants you, plain and simple. Why do you always have to complicate things for yourself? What did you _really_ think running away after gradation and _completely_ avoiding home would accomplish anyways? You didn't even tell me when you left. I had to find out from Prim. You're such a bitch sometimes."

I never told Johanna about what happened that night, how could I? It's a memory I like to replay in my head whenever I'm feeling really shitty and feel the need to wallow in my own misery. God, pull it together Katniss. What are you? Five? I take a deep breath, it's now or never. "We kissed. Peeta and I. I never told you about it though, I didn't tell anyone." Well that's a lie, I told Prim about it during my first break back home from university, but Johanna doesn't need to know that.

"You guys kissed…" She looks like she's either going to clock me or turn around and leave. I wouldn't blame her for either reaction really. She crosses her arms and leans up against the wall, taking her time to continue, "So you're telling me that the reason you fled the country like a criminal was because Peeta _kissed_ you? For fucks sake Katniss! I thought something _bad_ happened to you, you know, like you got knocked up or something."

No, it's not the reason why I left. It's what happened after that damned kiss, but I don't want to go there now. "You'd know if I was pregnant Johanna, do the math. Come on, give me _some_ credit," I jest hoping to lighten the mood with my sarcasm.

"Well why didn't you say anything?" The look on her face tells me that she's hurt. Why do I always end up hurting everyone around me?

"I don't know. It was after graduation. Why does it matter anyways, like you said, '_what happened in the past is done and gone, time to move on_'." I mimic her tone from earlier on in the car and she catches on. I really don't want to argue with Johanna but I can't help but feel as if I have to defend myself. I wish we could just drop this.

"Whoa, don't you dare go throwing my words back in my face Katniss! I, of all people, have always put up with your shit. The least you could do is fucking trust me. And when did you get that chip on your shoulder? This isn't you." This is the second time tonight that Johanna has used my first name and she looks like she wants to tear my arm off.

I can't help but sigh as I close my eyes and rub my temples trying to fend away the oncoming headache. She's right of course. This past year at school has not only taken a toll on my grades and my sanity, but it's stretched my natural ability to curb my emotions thin.

Johanna can sense the tension is building between us now and takes a step back to give me some space. She eventually leans down with her elbows on the counter next to me. "Now look, I know I'm not the sharpest knife in the drawer but isn't that kind of a good thing? You know? When the guy you've been drooling over for years actually _kisses_ you? How is _that_ a fucking problem? Please do tell."

"The problem is that it didn't mean anything to him, that's why." She looks at me like I have a third head.

"He told you that? I find that pretty fucking hard to believe."

"No, he didn't have to tell me. His actions made it pretty clear." She seems to ponder this while staring at the bottom of her empty shot glass like she's trying to magically make it refill itself.

"Listen, I don't know what happened between you two, but I can sense that you're not going to tell me. I get it. So…what was it like having his tongue down your throat anyways?" She punches me in the arm playfully and I know that I'm forgiven for my awful behavior. She's supposed to be my best friend so I should really start acting like she is.

"I only do the kissing Johanna, not the telling," I tease as I spin on my heels and leave Johanna with her empty shot glass and wander back outside to the deck. She knows better than to follow me. It's crowded out here and I all I can breathe in is the heat radiating off everyone, so I find myself making my way over to the gazebo in the back corner of the yard. Luckily no one has discovered my hideout yet, so I slide down into a patio chair and let the cool air fill my lungs. I stare up at the stars in the night sky and starting counting.

* * *

"So, I heard you called Delly _fat_." Finnick slumps down into the empty patio chair next to me. I'm not surprised he found me. This has always been our spot growing up when we wanted to get away from everyone and just be alone with our thoughts.

"Well, not in those exact words." Delly's not fat at all. She was a cheerleader, so she always had a typical cheerleader body. After graduation, maybe she just toned down the whole physical activity thing...she just looks like everyone else now. Nothing to get all uppity about.

"She got really sick just after you left for university and had to go off _birth control_. I guess it made her gain some weight or something. She's fine now though." The term 'birth control' makes Finnick's face contort, like the words tastes awful in his mouth. He hates talking about ladystuff. When we used to argue when we were younger, all I had to do was say the word 'period' and he'd lose his shit and storm off, leaving me the victor.

"How do you even know that?" I try to sound unmoved as I process the new information, but in reality I feel like a piece of crap. My low blow must have really hit hard then. "I didn't mean it anyways. How was I supposed to know."

"You're not, I was supposed to keep it a secret. I just wanted to make you feel bad," he kicks my foot playfully. This is the real Finnick. The good guy not everyone knows exists. Putting me in my place for a bitchy comment and standing up for Delly even though she is one is pretty noble. "You know why I have to be nice to her. It's all politics." He's right. Delly's parents own a landscaping company that works hand in hand with his parent's pool company. They were just expected to get along and be friends because their parents worked so closely together. "What did she say to you anyways? I know you wouldn't say something like that unless provoked."

"My clothes suck. I'm better than everyone because I think I'm smart. You know, the usual. Oh and apparently I'm trying to steal some guy she's after. That's about it." I don't let on about what Johanna just told me just in case she doesn't really know what she's talking about. I take another sip of the drink I totally forgot I was holding. What number is this anyways? I don't know when I stopped counting. I can feel my tongue getting looser with each sip. "What's her deal anyways?"

"Deal with what? You? Are you serious?" Why does everyone around here think I'm a fucking mind reader? I stare blankly back at him pretending that I have no idea what he's talking about. "You know, for someone as smart as you who's going to school to save the world as some environmental scientist guru…"

"Environmental engineer…thanks for knowing." I roll my eyes.

"Whatever, environmental engineer, same thing. As I was saying, for someone so book smart, you're pretty dense when it comes to that kind of shit."

I can't help that my now empty cup smacks him hard on the forehead. He deserved it. Ok, maybe I'm not that well in tune with my emotional side or whatever, but that doesn't mean I don't have feelings. I have tons of them. So many sometimes that I just don't know what to do with them all or how to express them. Well, besides anger and frustration, those are pretty easy for me. When I finally do figure things out in my head, things always get lost in translation and the connection from my brain to my mouth gets cut and all my words come out in one big mess. Maybe that's why I'm so much better with a pen and paper.

"Ouch, that hurt! I see you haven't lost your ability to over react." Finnick tries to look wounded and rubs his head, exaggerating the pain.

"I'm not dense. Just tell me what her problem is already."

"You and Peeta. That's her problem," he answers matter-of-fact like.

Ok, this can't be a coincidence, can it? "Me? What are you talking about? There is no me and Peeta. That's bullshit. If I remember correctly, the last time I saw or talked to him was at your graduation party. Oh, and if I'm not mistaken, every time I saw him, they were _all_ over each other."

"Were you high?" Finnick knows damn well that I wasn't, I've never touched the stuff.

"You're an asshole, no I wasn't high. Anyways, I haven't spoken to, oh wait, let alone _seen_Peeta until today. So how can she hate me for that? I don't do sloppy seconds."

Finnick shakes his head and makes a disgusted face. "What are _you_ talking about? Delly and Peeta? Yeah right, he wouldn't touch her with a ten foot pole. You'd have to be either really really drunk or really really desperate to hit that. The thought of my dick going _anywhere_ that Cato's has been makes me want to blow chunks. You really thought they bumped uglies?"

I cringe at the thought. What was I suppose to think? I open my mouth to reply but the words get lost and I don't know how to even respond to that.

"You're an idiot, you know that? The guy _likes_ you. Hell, he's been in _love_with you since we were kids. It's pretty fucking obvious. Well, to everyone else in the world but you apparently."

Huh? He's got to be joking, but he's not laughing and he looks kinda serious. Where is all this coming from? My head starts to pound as I try and process the words that just came out of his mouth. A part of me doesn't want to believe it. Why would he even _like_ me? And since we were kids? Why was this the first time I'd heard about this from Finnick? I didn't really pay attention to guys until high school so I don't even remember much about Peeta from when we were little. Well, except for back in grade three with the whole incident with the…oh yeah. How could I forget _that._

"Are you sure you know what you're talking about? Why would a guy like _him_ like someone like _me_?" Finnick puts his hands behind his head and purses his lips like he's choosing his next words carefully.

"Why does the sun rise every morning and set at night? Why can you feel the wind blow against your face but not see it? Why do the fish in the sea…"

I roll my eyes and cut him off, "How poetic smartass. I don't know, just tell me already."

"Because he just does OK!" He flings his arms up over his head as he snaps. His harsh tone takes me by surprise and I almost jump out of my chair. I'm not sure if he meant for it to come out that way or not, but he looks like he's about to explode. When Finnick gets going it's like watching a runaway train. You either have to let him run his course or blow up the tracks in front of him.

"Hey, OK! I'm sorry, I get it." I try to diffuse the situation but I don't think my apology is working. "I just never would have thought…." The cold expression on his face cuts me off as he looks me square in the face. His normally beautiful sea green eyes are now blazing.

"Why is it always so hard for you girls to just accept it when a guy genuinely likes you, huh?" He's yelling now through ragged breaths with his fists clenched on his thighs. "It doesn't matter _what_ we do or how hard we try to get your damn attention and get you to like us back, it just never works out! Does it! Being the nice guy doesn't get you anywhere anymore, that's not what you girls want. You go for the asshole who treats you like shit cause you think you can change him and live happily ever after! Why do you do that? You choose self deprecation over happiness! WHY?"

I don't answer him. I have a feeling the question wasn't really directed to me. We sit in silence for what seems like hours but is really only a minute. His breathing eventually returns to normal and he closes his eyes.

"Sorry," he mumbles.

"Um…I don't think that was about me, was it?" I take his silence as confirmation. "Listen Finnick, you just have to keep trying, OK? I know things with Annie…"

"You don't know _anything_ about my situation with Annie," he interrupts. "You haven't been back here in over a year Katniss, how would you know anything?"

Ouch, that was low. I deserve it though. I left this town like a bat out of hell. I didn't even bother to tell Finnick I was leaving the party let alone town the last time I saw him. It was a pretty bitchy thing to do but I really didn't think anyone would care. God I'm selfish.

"Hey," I plead, leaning over and resting my head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I really am." I take is hand and he finally unclenches them. "I should have at least called you. I was so wrapped up in my own drama I guess I didn't really think about anyone else."

"Yeah, there's a word for that…" he trails off but doesn't finish his sentence. His face finally softens and now he just looks tired, defeated almost. He takes a deep breath and covers our intertwined hands with is free one. "Listen, just trust me please? I know what I'm talking about. Fuck Delly. She sees you as a threat because she knows Peeta holds you up on a pedestal and that he'll _never_ look at her the way he looks at you. Promise me something, OK? Just give him a chance. Please, for me?"

A chance? A chance for what? I don't want to even entertain the idea of something going on between us. How could I? I'm damaged goods, so I probably shouldn't be making promises to Finnick, especially while drunk. Although our heated conversation has actually sobered me up a bit. I hesitate for a moment, unsure of how to answer him. Would it really be that bad to let Peeta in? See what really happened that night? Maybe there's an explanation. I finally give in, "Sure. I trust you."

I hear glass shatter in the background and I'm reminded that there's still a party going on behind us. I also really need to pee again. And find Johanna. She was right and so I'm sure she wants to gloat. As if on cue, I see her stumbling over towards us with two shot glasses. Maybe tonight's not a good time, she already looks tipsy.

"Time to break up the pity party out here you two!" Johanna falls onto my lap and hands me one of the glasses with what smells like whisky. I down it in one gulp and it burns my throat. Yep, definitely whisky. "You two have been sulking out here for over half an hour. It's time for a fucking dance party!" Yep, she's definitely a goner. Johanna only dances when she's wasted.

* * *

I'm not much of a dancer either but like Johanna, get enough liquor in me and I have no reservations on the dance floor. The living room is packed and the speakers are blaring some hip hop tune I've never heard before. Mental note, I really need to expand my musical horizons past classic 90's hits and radio chart toppers. I close my eyes and let the beat take over my body, trying to focus on the numbness in my chest and not the shit storm going on in my head. My predatory instincts kick in and I sense someone behind me. Then I feel two large hands on my waist. The liquor must be having an effect on my reaction time because before I can open my eyes and turn around to deck whoever it is behind me, he pulls me in closer. I recognize his smell.

His lips barely touch my right ear as he whispers, "Hey, there you are. Mind if I join you." It's more of a statement than a question. I let out a sigh and go limp in his arms. I don't want to think anymore, I just want to chuck my brain out the window. Oh the hell with it. I just nod in response to him.

My body has a mind of it's own as my hand travels up into his hair. I begin raking my fingers through it as I feel his hot breath on my back of my neck. Fuck, my body is screaming at me with desire but my mind is going a million miles an hour trying to dissect what's going on. Our bodies move as one to the rhythm and feeling more self-assured than usual, I slowly start to grind my hips into him. His thumbs stroke the curves of my waist before his hands glide down and grasp my hips. I can feel him start to harden into my back and can't help but revel in the fact that I'm doing this to him. Somewhere across the room I'm sure someone is burning a hole through the back of my head with her stare. Let her. I hope that bitch is watching.

The song suddenly changes to some annoyingly upbeat pop song and our bodies stop moving but we're both still breathing heavily. I finally open my eyes as he asks, "How about that talk?" I shrug my shoulders as he leads me out of the living room and out to the backyard. I'm pretty sure I see Finnick wink at me from the corner of my eye. I give him the finger before disappearing behind the door.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** Today's chapter is brought to you by Train – Drive By, Neon Tees – Animal, and The Trews – You're So Sober. Phew! It's another long one. As always, thank you so much for all the follows, favorites, and reviews! Keep them coming and I'll see what I can do to maybe get another chapter up by the end of the week, fingers crossed. Now, time to see what's up with Katniss and Peeta…hope you enjoy The Talk!

**Disclaimer:**This fanfic is rated 'M' for language and future sexual content. I do not own any of the characters or the Hunger Games.

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**Chapter 5: The Talk**

My alcohol induced buzz has now been completely replaced by a burning need that's spread from my head, to my chest, to my stomach, and finally to between my legs. The past few months of a nonexistent sex life has started to take its toll and has left me to my own devices to appease my raging libido. I can see that he's leading us back outside to the gazebo in the backyard. Our hands are still intertwined and I hope he doesn't notice that my palms are sweating buckets. His hand feels warm and I can't help but notice how mine fits perfectly in his. I start to fidget with my other hand in anticipation, not really knowing what to do with it so I begin to twirl the end of my braid without thinking. When we reach the privacy of the gazebo, he pulls up a chair for me and beckons me over to have a seat.

"So…what's new and interesting in your world?" He settles into the chair beside me and smiles at me with interest. He's gorgeous when he smiles, his teeth are so fucking perfect. My eyes move down to his chest and then eventually find their way to his crotch. I chuckle. I think he notices because he tries to discretely shift his pants to hide the slight bulge that I'm responsible for due to my unexpectedly bold moves on the dance floor, but find myself shifting in my seat too when I see his jaw clench from his slight embarrassment. I try not to stare this time and focus on the question.

It's a pretty general question though, so I respond with an even more general answer, "Not much. You?"

"Huh," he laughs. "I guess that was a pretty broad question. How about...what have you been up to this past year?"

Well, that's a little more direct, but it's a loaded question. Where do I even begin? I'd bore him to death about school, I haven't really done anything noteworthy to date, and there's no way I'm bringing up Gale, so I'm kinda lost for words right now. I wish we'd just stop dancing around the subject we're here to discuss. I think he can sense my lack of enthusiasm for providing a response so he breaks the silence.

"Well, how about I start then. Let's see, not that much too I guess." I can see he's going to humor me. "After graduation Finnick, Thresh, and I took a trip up to the mountains and backpacked around for about a month. It was amazing really, being surrounded by nature. I wanted to paint everything I saw, the sunsets, the sunrises, the lakes. I regretted only bringing my sketchbook but most if it's still locked up in here," he taps the side of his head. "I never forget a beautiful view."

For some reason the way he's looking at me when he says those last words with that goofy grin makes me blush. Ugh, how does he do that? My hormones are betraying me as I start to feel my stomach muscles tighten again. I need to stop. Think of something disgusting…anything! I try to focus back on what he's just said. Oh yeah, the mountains.

I know what he's talking about with the whole nature thing. My father used to take me camping up into the mountains when I was younger. That's where he taught me to hunt and swim. My mother never really approved of hunting though, something about it not being a proper pastime for a lady, but I'm not a lady so I didn't think it applied to me. My father always said he was blessed with two perfect, beautiful daughters but I always had a feeling he wished he had a son too. I think that's why I was a tom boy while growing up. I tried to fill the gap that I thought he had in his life and was eager to learn anything and everything he could offer. I used to sit and listen to him for hours as he talked about the ecosystem and how things are interconnected and how we need to take care of what resources we have. I'm pretty sure a lot of people think my father's a hippy, but he's really just genuinely concerned about our future.

We took Prim along with us one time after she complained to my mother that we were deliberately leaving her out of all the fun but she cried and complained not even six hours into the trip and demanded that we turn right back around and take her home. She just isn't cut out for the outdoors. I silently laugh to myself at the memory and Peeta gives me a curious smile. I shake my head and raise my eyebrows, signaling him to continue.

"After that, I spent the rest of the summer working for my dad at the bakery, you know, learning more of the business side of things. It's always been a dream of mine to take over when he finally decides to retire. That is, if he ever decides to retire," he chuckles.

I've only seen Mr. Mellark a hand full of times when I've taken Prim to the bakery to pick up a birthday cake, cookies, or cupcakes when a reason to celebrate came up. He was always so…happy and cheerful. Like he was undoubtedly content with his life. I never really understood why though, everyone knew Mrs. Mellark, well about her reputation that is.

"I really like his cheese buns," I blurt out, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. Peeta bursts out laughing at my sudden outburst. Where did that come from? I blame the alcohol. It's the truth though. I really do like their cheese buns, but really? Real smooth. I try to redeem myself and defensively question, "What? They're really good. You should learn how to make them for when you take over."

"Oh, don't you worry. I've got that one down pat. We actually use the recipe I perfected a few years ago, so I guess you could say they're actually _my_ buns."

A mental image pops into my mind of Peeta bending over to pull out a rack of cheese buns from the oven. Oh, your buns indeed. My God, I need help. I reel in my wandering imagination and see that he's smiling to himself. I find his pride in his baking abilities endearing and it's obvious that he's truly delighted by the idea of someday taking over the bakery and doing what he loves. I'm a little envious really that he seems to have his life all figured out and it seems to be going as planned.

"So yeah, when summer finally came to an end I packed up my life into my car and moved myself into residence. I don't really know what happened when I got there though, it seems like the rest of the year was one big blur. It flew by so fast. School kept me pretty busy of course, but I don't really know how I got anything done with all the eating, drinking, and sleeping I did," he laughs.

I wish I could say the same for myself. School was more a nuisance for me and I seriously considered changing majors on more than one occasion. To what I don't know, anything that had a lighter course load was tempting. I see him furrow his brow as he absent-mindedly bites his bottom lip. I look away trying to prove to myself that I have some sort of self control over my new obsession with his mouth, so I settle for his eyes instead. He looks unsure of himself, like he's holding something back. I sense that he wants to take this conversation to a more serious level, but his body language looks equally uncertain. I guess it's about time we did this, so I guess I'll help him out before my nerves get the best of me.

"So, I uh…thought you had…other plans for the summer," I mumble, unsure if he even remembers what I'm talking about.

"No," he answers immediately. "I never had any intention of following through with any of that Katniss." He clearly knows where I'm going with this.

"Oh," I whisper under my breath as I vividly recall what happened that day.

* * *

"Now everybody smile! Finnick! Stop giving the finger!" We all gathered under the large oak tree outside the gym to take a photo. Madge, being the shutterbug that she is, insisted documenting everything, so Finnick, Johanna, Annie, and I huddled together with our diplomas in hand. Just as she's about to take the picture, she looks up and yells to someone over my shoulder.

"Get in there Mellark! Yeah, just hop in right next to Katniss!" The smile on my face immediately falls as he magically appears at my side. He reaches out his arm and snakes it around my waist. His fingers brush against the ticklish spot on my side causing me to involuntarily lean into him, closing the gap between us. Ugh, I didn't mean to do that.

"OK, now everybody smile! Don't look so serious Katniss! _Try_ to look happy!" She peeks out from behind the camera and winks at me. I scowl in return but give her a half-hearted smile at the last second just before the camera flashes.

I start to pull away from Annie and Peeta but his arm stays planted into my waist, preventing me from escaping. Annie smiles at me timidly and softly says, "Hey you two, we're going to go grab something to eat back inside, see you in a bit?" Peeta nods in response but I can't seem to get any words out of my mouth. She turns and quickly follows the group back into the gym leaving us alone in the shade of the large oak tree. He leans over and before I know it, his free hand has joined his other and I'm locked in his embrace. He obviously doesn't want me to go anywhere, but why? Panic starts to set in as I desperately search around us, trying to see if anyone's looking or if I'm missing something.

"Don't look so scared Katniss, I'm not going to bite." He smiles and it's utterly breath-taking and I can't help but stare. I can feel tiny goose bumps starting to form all over my body. I've never been this close to him before. Why would I have?

"Congratulations by the way, we made it out of high school in one piece!" I can feel his chest rumble as he laughs.

I actually can't believe I made it through senior year. So much has happened, with classes, exams, and the added pressure of a part-time job when my dad was temporarily laid off from the quarry, I'm surprised I actually did make it out in one piece. I feel like a big weight has finally been lifted off my shoulders now that school is over and done with. I feel like I can finally breathe. I can finally sleep in! A smile starts to creep onto my face at the realization.

"This suits you," he says as his thumb traces my smile. My body goes rigid due to the unexpected contact and I'm frozen into place. I'm not sure what's going on exactly, but I do know that I'm now staring at his mouth. Again. I have an overwhelming urge to touch it. I think he can sense that I'm starting to feel uncomfortable with the position we're in.

"By the way, you look beautiful. But you always do so maybe that's not really a compliment. You look gorgeous."

Uh, is he for real? I don't think I've spoken more than two words to Peeta Mellark before and here he is telling me I look _gorgeous_? Well, maybe we've flirted a few times in passing but he flirts with everyone. Doesn't he? I suddenly feel extremely self-conscious. I'm pretty sure half of my hair is falling out of my braid, I'm not wearing any makeup, I haven't shaved my legs in weeks, and even though I showered this morning I feel like I'm sweating like a pig in this heat. Oh God, I probably smell like one too. My eyes quickly dart around again anxiously but there's no one else here, so he's definitely talking to me. I feel awkward again and a bit embarrassed that he's complimenting me. I never could learn to take a compliment. Do I say something back? Where is this coming from anyways?

"Um, thanks…I guess?" Ugh, what kind of a response was that? What do you even say to that? I don't know what to do so I just fidget with the end of my braid and search the ground, like I'm really going to find an answer there.

The silence is killing me and I think he's staring at me now. I finally look back up at him and try to smile as I stutter, "Uh, congrats…to you…too."

I think my palms are starting to sweat as I try to rationalize how I got into this situation and how to possibly get out of it. And why the hell are his arms still around me? Calm down Katniss, things could be worse, right? I'm so confused and…something else. Excited? My eyes keep finding his mouth and it seems that every time they do, my heartbeat seems to pick up speed. I'm surprised he can't hear it already.

I suddenly feel an unexpected calmness as I look back up into his blue eyes. Hmmm. He's staring back. There must be some sort of a gravitational pull between us because our heads slowly inch closer and closer. He's so close now that I can feel his breath on my lips and it's a little overwhelming. He raises is eyebrows slightly, like he's asking permission for something. Does he want to kiss me? Oh God, is this a joke? Fuck it.

I feel my body go into autopilot and my head takes a backseat as my lips decide once and for all that they've had enough of this torture. My lips clumsily go crashing into his. They feel warm and wet but he hesitates for a second. I think he's unsure of how far I want to take this but my God this feels so amazing. I don't want him to pull away so I tilt my head to deepen the kiss as I glide my tongue against his top lip, hoping he can take a hint. He seems to read my mind as his face relaxes and his tongue meets mine half way. The kiss turns from sloppy to sweet to down right needy as we both hungrily try to take control. I sneak my fingers into the soft hairs on the nape of his neck while his hands are all over my back, pulling me even closer so that every inch of our bodies is touching. I start to feel light-headed and realize that I have to come up for air but my lips are begging me not to. I finally give in before I feel like I have to pass out and pull away to gasp a breath. He's breathing heavily too but smiling back at me with hooded eyes. He rests his forehead against mine as I come back to my senses and realize we're still in public. Shit. Did anyone see that? I bit my lower lip so hard it almost starts to bleed. I can't believe that just happened.

"I've waited my whole life to do that," he whispers blissfully as he kisses my forehead. His words sound so sweet and sincere it melts away any embarrassment I have for being in public. I don't say anything back though, I know if I do I'll just ruin this moment, or even worse, wake up from this dream. I want to freeze time and just live here forever in his arms. I take a deep breath and inhale his scent. Hmmm, soap and….cinnamon? It seems like an odd combination to me at first but then it makes sense, his parents do own a bakery. He plays with my braid soothingly as I start to wonder about what other tantalizing things he comes home smelling like after working at the bakery. I'm startled out of my daydream by a piercing, high-pitched voice.

"Peeta! What do you think you're _doing_!" I see a tall, thin woman with pin straight blonde hair and a pointed nose marching towards us. She's wearing a bright red dress and her chin is stuck up into the air like it's a sign of sophistication. I can only assume this is Peeta's mother, there's a slight resemblance but I thank God that he mostly takes after of his father.

Peeta looks back at the woman but doesn't loosen his grip around my waist. "Mother, I'd like you to meet Katniss…" but before he can get another word in the woman grabs him by the arm and tries to break his hold on me. I immediately release my arms from our embrace but he won't leg go of my hand. I start to feel the heat of embarrassment creep up the back of my neck. What is this woman doing?

"I know full well who she is!" she screams. "My question is what the hell are you doing with her? Do you know how this looks? Being seen with the offspring of quarry trash like her? I won't let you embarrass me any further, now come along." She tries to drag him back to where his family is talking with who I think I recognize as Mr. and Mrs. Cartwright. "Delly is waiting and I think you two have a lot to discuss about this summer."

Wait, what? Delly? Shit, what the hell is going on here? I knew this was too good to be true. Who am I kidding? I'm probably just some sorry excuse to rebel against this witch. Fuck, I think people are starting to stare.

He shrugs her off and looks back to me. "No mother," he says quietly with no emotion. How the hell is he still so calm right now? My heart is beating a million miles a minute and I can feel my blood start to boil. He looks back to her, "I have nothing to discuss with her. I told you already, Finnick, Thresh, and I are going…"

"Don't you dare talk back to me you ungrateful sad excuse for a son!" she hisses. "Don't be ridiculous. We're spending the summer up at the cottage with the Cartwright's as planned and I'll be damned if you think otherwise!" She turns to face me and I lock into a mortified death stare with her when her beady eyes meet mine. She continues in a condescending tone, "You hear that girl? I don't know what you think is going on between you and my son but whatever it is, you can forget about it. My son has a future ahead of him and I will not have the likes of you ruining it for him!"

I open my mouth in hopes to explain that this is all a big misunderstanding but nothing comes out. I can barely move a muscle. I can't believe this is happening right now. I want the ground to open up beneath me and just swallow me whole. What gives this woman the fucking right to talk to me like this? How does she even know who I am? I've never met her before in my life and not only is she insulting me to my face, she's insulting my parents! Who the fuck does she think she is? I need to get out of here…now. I try to retract my hand from Peeta's so I can run, before I slap this woman across her smug face, but he won't budge.

"Mother, I told you already. I'm not going to university, I already turned them down. I'm going to college in the fall and when I'm done that, I'm going to work at the bakery with Dad. That's my plan. That's _my_ future."

The witch begins to laugh. I can't believe she's talking to her son this way. "Do you _really_ think you're going to take over after your father? Over. My. Dead. Body." At this moment I'd be more than happy to help her out with that. I'm still trying to get Peeta to release me from his death grip but it's like he's forgotten I'm even here.

"The only way I'd ever let you take over that god forsaken thorn in my side is if you decide on someone worthy of our name…not _this_," she shoves her perfectly red polished finger into my face, her tone disgusted as if she's pointing out a piece of road kill on the highway. I want to snap her finger in half.

"Don't you talk to her like that," he warns. Peeta finally breaks his calm composure and pushes his mother's finger out of my face. I see a flash of skin and close my eyes before hearing a loud s_mack_. I open them again quickly and see Peeta's cheek start to turn a burning red. She hit him. I can't believe she had the fucking nerve to hit her son in public.

I can't take it anymore. I pry Peeta's fingers off mine and start running. I can't hold back the tears that are forming behind my eyes anymore and they start to fall down my flushed cheeks. I don't know where my feet are taking me but all I know is that it's far away from here. I hear Peeta's voice shouting my name, getting farther and farther away but I don't dare turn around. I hear his mother yelling too. Her words ringing in my ears, "Let her go, that piece of trash isn't worth it!" I can't let that woman see me cry. I won't. I won't give her that pleasure.

* * *

"I'm sorry about what happened that day Katniss, about how my Mother treated you. I'm sorry you had to see that." I'm pulled back from my memory of that day and the look on my face is a dead give away that I remember everything.

"She had no right to talk to you that way and nothing she said was true." Is he kidding me? She had no right to hit her son in broad day light in front of hundreds of people. I don't think I'm the one she needs to be apologizing to.

"I tried to find you afterwards, I was worried sick about you but I searched everywhere but I couldn't find you. I knew my only hope of finding you was at Finnick's party later that night but it felt like you were trying to avoid me. That you didn't want anything to do with me. Please, you have to believe me. I'm so sorry Katniss."

I stare blankly at him, still wrapped up in my thoughts. A rush of emotions comes flooding into the forefront of my mind. Anger. Frustration. Confusion. Humiliation. Regret. I don't know why he keeps apologizing for his mother. She's the one who needs to take a long walk off a short plank. I start to feel sorry for him for having such a horrible woman as a mother, that couldn't have been a pleasant childhood with her around. My brain suddenly shifts directions and instead of feeling pity I feel an overwhelming desire.

That kiss. I couldn't forget about it if I wanted to, it was branded into my memory. I've compared every other one thus far to that kiss. Hell, my stomach still does flips every time I remember it, even now. Fuck. Sitting here beside him, after all this time, it's like my body remembers him, wants to pick up where we left off. But wait. What is he talking about trying to find me at Finnick's? That's not what I remember. I can't look at him anymore so I glance back to the ground and try to calm myself while twisting my hands over and over into knots on my lap.

"I looked for you every time I came back home to visit. I hoped that I'd somehow run into you, that I'd be able to see you again. I kept trying to get something out of Madge and Johanna but neither ever budged. No one would tell me when you were coming home or give me your number. Then I finally came to the realization that maybe _I_ was the reason why you stayed away, but then I thought, I'm giving myself too much credit to think that I'd had any affect on you. Why would I? Did I?"

He searches my face for an answer but I can't let him see me like this. I'm so pathetic. How would he react if I confirmed everything he just confessed? What good would it do? Yes Peeta, you were the reason I avoided home. I was scared. I was stupid. I was selfish. I fight the urge to get up and run. I can't do that anymore. Instead, I turn to my only other defense mechanism. Withdrawal. I shift my attention to the night sky and start to count the stars. I notice that the crickets are especially loud tonight as they sing back and forth to each other.

"Katniss? Please look at me." I don't respond. I continue to stare up into the sky avoiding his gaze.

"Please…say something," he begs, breaking the silence.

"I'm not good at saying something," I whisper, not meeting his eyes. There's an uncomfortable long pause before he continues.

"Then…can I kiss you?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** My apologies for not getting this chapter up as soon as I would have liked to. I've been KO'd on my bed for the past five days with the flu but I'm feeling a bit better now and back to writing. As always, thank you so much for all the follows, favorites, and reviews! Please keep them coming! Also, I'd like to say a big "Thank You" to iLoVeRynMar for her awesome shout out to this story on tumblr, you're freakin' awesome! For whatever reason, if you haven't already started reading her amazing story In My Head, In My Heart, do yourself a favor and get on it!

**Disclaimer:** This fanfic is rated 'M' for language and sexual content. I do not own any of the characters or the Hunger Games.

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**Chapter 6: Lights Out**

What the hell? I snap my head back towards his direction and stare him down in disbelief. OK, now I definitely didn't see that coming. He's got to be kidding me though. Did he honestly just ask if he could _kiss_ me? I'm pretty sure no one has ever asked if they could kiss me before. Hell, I'm pretty sure no one has ever asked my permission for any sort of physical contact before. A part of me still can't help but be surprised by Peeta Mellark, but another part of me isn't really and was silently hoping that something like this would happen. Yet I still don't know how to react. My body is screaming _God yes!_ but my head is screaming _Hell no_! I can see from the determination in his eyes that he's not going to let down until I give him an answer.

"I, uh…well…oh!" I gasp startled.

I'm surprised when Peeta suddenly leans forward and swings himself and his chair directly in front of me in one swift motion. Our feet are almost touching and he's leaning forward in his seat with his elbows perched on his knees and hands linked under his chin. Well shit, this kind of eliminates any escape I had planned. I think he knows my flight response to situations like this all too well. A smirk creeps across his face as if he knows he's two steps ahead of me.

"Humph," I chuckle, amused by his tenacity. Two can play at this game. I lock eyes with him and lean forward in my seat to mirror his stance and purse my lips in a challenging manner. I think he catches on as he leans forward again, this time a little bit closer. My natural competitiveness kicks in and as much as my head tells me to tread carefully, I can't let him win this. I lean in again but this time much closer than he did before. I wiggle my eyebrows back at him, egging him on.

His bottom lip twitches as he clenches his jaw and I can see that our little game is starting to have more than just a playful edge to it. He starts to slowly lean back into his chair, sucking on his bottom lip. I laugh to myself acknowledging my small victory but I'm starting to think he had an ulterior motive to begin with. I should be backing down but the look in his eyes is drawing me in closer. His naturally bright blue eyes are now too dark for me to distinguish between his pupils and irises.

"What do you want Katniss?" he questions slowly. His voice seems deeper now and it's so unbelievably sexy that I can start to feel heat pooling between my legs.

The way my name rolls off of his lips is almost enough to make me come undone. I've never been a vain person but when he says it like that, I don't think I could ever get tired of it. What _do_ I want? I can't help but hear Johanna's words in the back of my head. _Why do you always have to complicate things for yourself? _I don't know why I do. His question is simple. I know what I want right now, this very second. Maybe it's time to live in the moment and not worry about consequences.

I'm lost for the right words so I answer him the only way I know how. I lift myself out of my chair and slowly lower my body onto his lap, my knees straddling his waist and pinning him to the back of his chair. He groans approvingly as he shifts in his seat to make room for me, while resting his palms on my lower back.

"So…now that you've got me, what are you going to do with me?" he teases as he tilts his head to the side and grins.

My God, that grin is going to be the death of me. A thousand dirty things pop into my head at once that I'd love to do to him right now. I can feel my mouth start to salivate as I suck my bottom lip excitedly, not knowing where to start. Luckily of me though, the way he's positioned his head has left his neck deliciously open, so that's where I start.

I trail light kisses from his collarbone up to behind his ear which elicits a low moan from the back of his throat. The vibrations from his neck tickle my lips and it drives me to explore his earlobe with the tip of my tongue. His skin tastes salty and sweet. I'm not sure what I was expecting but its better than I could have imagined. I think I hit a ticklish spot when my teeth lightly graze the edge of his earlobe. He tightens his grip on my waist as he wriggles underneath me. Hmmm, I'll keep that in mind for next time. Fuck, I really hope there is a next time at this rate.

I continue my exploration by trailing kisses along his cleanly shaven jaw line which causes his hips to begin circling and grinding against my center. Mmmmhmmm. That's what I was looking for. I keep placing open mouth kisses along his jaw to see how far I can push him with this. I can feel a tingling sensation start to build between my thighs so I force my full weight down onto his hips to increase the wonderful friction building between us.

"Katniss…I…I can't…you're killing me…," he mumbles.

I can sense he's hesitating, not knowing what to do with his hands as he opens and closes them against my back. His hands eventually find the hem of my sweater and I feel it start to inch up along my rib cage. I let out a small hiss due to the contact of his cold fingers on my burning skin.

"Sorry," he says as he buries his face into my neck. "I just…want you…so bad…," he groans.

He suddenly takes my cheeks in his hands and pulls my attention back to his face, bringing us nose to nose. For the love of god, even his breath smells like cinnamon. I try to regain some composure as I stare at his face. I can see light freckles along the bridge of his nose, similar to the ones I get in the summer. I've never noticed them before.

"What do you want Katniss?" he asks again, although this time there's an edge to his naturally calm voice. He searches my eyes, waiting for something, anything from me. I can't hold back anymore, all my inhibitions are out the window now.

"Kiss me," I plead as I shut my eyes. I hate how my voice betrays me and sounds so desperate. I want this though, probably even more than he does. I want his soft, warm lips on mine. I want to feel that passion again that I've been desperately seeking but haven't been able to find anywhere else.

His hands are still gently gripping my face as his thumbs trace the outline of my chin, back and forth, as if he's memorizing it. What is he waiting for? Does he not want this anymore? I think my heart stops. Possibly literally. Before I can open my eyes to read his face, his lips gently brush against mine. I shudder in response to the teasing and unsatisfying contact. I can't take it, I want him. I need to feel more of him.

The hunger I've been trying to keep under wraps finally takes control as I lean into him and press my lips firmly to his. In that instant, our mouths begin to explore each other like uncharted territory, it's hot and fast and I think I start to see stars. I can't get enough of him so I tilt my head to get better access. He licks along my lower lip and I respond by parting my lips just enough to allow him access. I moan into his mouth when his tongue finds mine and I can't help but slide my hand down the front of his chest, slowly inching my way further down until I find what I'm searching for. I move to loosen the button of his jeans but he suddenly stops me before I can go further.

He pulls away breathlessly, "Hey…I...I think we need to slow down a bit."

My eyes fly open as his words snap me out of the dream like state that's taken over me and I can't help but feel a slight sting of rejection. Did I do something wrong? What the hell, he's the one what wanted this in the first place! Fuck, I let this get too far. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Panic is starting to set in and I can feel my face starting to burn with embarrassment. I can feel my hands starting to shake.

"Stop." He stills my hands and I can't bring myself to look him in the face. "Whatever it is you're thinking, please stop. If you don't think I liked it then you really need to have a conversation with someone down there," he says as he draws my gaze to the still throbbing bulge in his pants.

"Ok then…" I mumble under my breath.

"Nothing's wrong Katniss. That was…amazing."

It was amazing, and I want more. But why doesn't he want me? Why the hell did he pull away?

"Yeah…right," I choke my words out which are clearly laced with frustration. I begin to push myself off the back of the chair to lift off of him but he catches my wrists firmly.

"Wait, I don't think you understand. I want this, believe me I want this. I just…I want to do this the right way."

The right way? Uh, what is he getting at? The sting of rejection is starting to fade but now a new feeling of dread is starting to sink in. By the sounds of it, whatever it is we have going on here, if we'll even choose to define it, it seems like he's going to want more, more than something purely physical. It wouldn't be fair to lead him on, to think that there's more going on here. I'm not ready for this.

I stop trying to pull away from him. I'm not being fair. Of course he'd want to do things the right way, he's a nice guy. I thought they all died, along with chivalry, when cell phones and the internet were created. Great, he's done it again. He's successfully made me feel guilty, light headed, and like crawling into a hole to hide in a matter of minutes. That's twice in one day. That's a new record.

"Listen, can you just give whatever it is that's going on here a chance to play out? Maybe see where it leads?"

Why did I even get into this situation to begin with? I know I promised Finnick I would give him a chance, but fuck. I don't know if I'm ready. I hate being put on the spot. I'm not known for maker stellar decisions while under this type of pressure. My nerves finally get the best of me.

"Sure, I get it." Uh, fuck. I need to stop giving in to him.

"So you're not upset then?" he asks with a cautious look. I part my lips to respond but nothing comes out. Per usual, the right words for the situation don't come to mind, so I just start to ramble.

"No, just maybe a little….uh…I don't know….sexually frustrated?" Well that's a lie. I'm not just a little sexually frustrated, more like _insanely_ sexually frustrated. So much so that I'm willing to overlook my typical reservations for starting relationships to find out if this could lead to some kind of release.

"Well you're not alone in that department," he chuckles as he shifts himself in his pants again so I'm not completely crushing his manhood. He leans in and whispers into my ear, "Oh and I wouldn't worry about that by the way. I've had years to figure out how I'm going to have my way with you and trust me…you're not going to be disappointed." I can feel him smile into my neck just before he begins to plant wet, open mouthed kisses under my chin.

Fuck! What is with this guy? He comes off as the perfect gentleman that any woman would want to rush home to meet their grandmother, and then he goes and says shit like _that_?

I'm not sure how long my mouth has been hanging open but he eventually takes notice of my dazed and confused state and tilts my chin down to place another short but sweet kiss on my lips. It sends shivers through my body as his hands lightly trace down my spine through my now intrusive sweater. He unexpectedly bucks into me and quickly moves his hands to firmly cup my ass and begins kneading me with his fingers. I try to stifle the moan that escapes my mouth, but it comes out as more a choking sound. I can't even bring myself to care about feeling embarrassed, not when he's handling my butt like a piece of dough.

"I…I thought we were supposed to be taking this slow…" I trail off, wishing that I hadn't opened by stupid mouth. Now he's going to come to his senses and slow things down again, but he doesn't. I'm too absorbed in the way his pinky fingers keep getting tantalizingly close to my center and fantasying about his hands massaging other parts of my body that it takes me awhile to notice something moving off in the distance.

I can see the outline of two people moving against the large oak tree off to the side of us. Well, well, it looks like someone's getting lucky tonight too. Things seem to be getting intense and I start to hear moaning. Thank god its dark out so Peeta can't see the blush that's spreading across my face. I know we're out here doing pretty much the same thing but that doesn't stop me from feeling awkward as I sit here watching this pair.

Peeta senses that I'm distracted by something and turns around to see what the big deal is. I think he can sense my uneasiness and teases out loud, "Get a room."

A nervous laugh escapes my lips as I look away. The moans stop and I think I see the girl pull away before I hear her and the recognition causes me to bolt out of Peeta's lap sprinting.

"Get _off_ me Cato! I said _stop_!" I'm there just in time and I grab his shoulder to try and shove him off of Madge.

"Get the fuck away from her!" I scream, trying to push him again but he's twice my size and he bats me away like a fly. As he laughs, he loosens his hold on Madge who slumps to the ground, but turns to me and grabs my wrist hard.

"If you wanted to join us, then all you had to do was ask!" He reeks of booze and sweat and it makes my stomach turn. I see Peeta out of the corner of my eye coming at us with his fist raised but before he can land a blow on Cato's face my instincts kick in as my knee involuntarily makes contact with Cato's groin and he crashes to the ground in a heap.

"Don't you fucking touch me or her ever again you piece of shit!" I kick him in the ribs for good measure and he rolls over onto his side cursing into the air. I look over to find Madge but all I see is her back as she runs to the house. My wrist starts to turn red but I don't feel anything due to the adrenaline pumping through my veins. Peeta walks me away from Cato who is still keeled over on the ground in pain.

"Are you OK? Did he hurt you?" His hands are all over me checking to see if I'm hurt. I'm still staring at Cato on the ground, my nostrils flaring in anger. Peeta lifts my wrist to his face to inspect it but when I shake my head he lowers it and starts to gently rub small circles around the mark that's starting to form, trying to sooth away the redness. My breathing begins to even out slowly when I find his face. He smiles back charmingly while taking my hand in both of his. While looking into my eyes, he brings my hand to his lips and places a soft kiss into my palm which begins to tingle in response to the heat of his lips on my clammy skin.

"What the hell happened here?" Finnick and Johanna come running towards us, breaking our gaze. Unsure of what did just happen, I snatch my hand back and say sternly, "It's fine. Nothing I couldn't handle. Is Madge OK?"

"She's a little shaken but she'll be alright." Finnick sees Cato still a lump on the ground. "Excuse me. I gotta take out the trash."

Johanna is looking between us waiting for an explanation when I turn back to Peeta and yell, "You didn't have to butt in, I can handle myself!" I think I'm still riding my wave of rage but the instant the words leave my mouth I wish I could take them back. Why did I just snap at him? He didn't do anything wrong. He hasn't done a single fucking thing wrong. He tried to help me for gods sake. What would a waif like me have done if Cato had gotten back up on his feet? I'm such an idiot. I nervously look over to Johanna for help. I need to get out of here before I dig myself deeper into my hole of shame.

"Yeah, I know Katniss. I'm well aware," he responds with a dejected expression on his face.

What the fuck is _wrong_ with me? How did everything go from absolutely perfect not even two minutes ago to this fucking mess?

I can feel tears begin to collect at the back of my eyes as I stutter, "Johanna, I think it's time to go."

Without another word we make our way back into the house. We pass by Madge who gives me a sympathetic smile and mouths a silent 'thank you'. We barely make it to the street before my tears start to fall freely and I can't stop myself. It's as if the dam that was holding back years of emotions has finally broken. I don't know if I'm crying out of anger, frustration, or the new hurt deep in my chest. All I know is that I'll never be able to face Peeta Mellark again.

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**Author's Note: ** Three words for you Katniss…drama, drama, drama…hehe. Let me know your thoughts about this chapter!


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note:** Hey all! I was on a country kick while writing this chapter so if you were wondering about the tone of this chapter, the following two songs definitely influenced it: Striking Matches – When the Right One Comes Along and Lee Brice – Hard To Love. As always, thank you so much for all the follows, favorites, and reviews! Please keep them coming and I might just post the next chapter before Christmas!

**Disclaimer:**This fanfic is rated 'M' for language and sexual content. I do not own any of the characters or the Hunger Games.

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**Chapter 7: The Hangover**

"What time did you get home last night?"

I try to force my eyelids open and see Prim sitting on the edge of my bed with a glass of water and what I think is an extra strength Advil. No regular strength for me, I definitely need the extra strength after the night I had. I swear Prim's a god sent at times like these. I'm surprised that my head doesn't feel too bad really but my body, now that's another story. I feel like I slept all night with a shoe sticking into my rib cage Oh wait. I fish underneath me and pull out my shoe from underneath me. Huh, well that explains that.

"Nice," Prim giggles.

I look do a blurry once over of my room. I remember walking home with Johanna but I can't seem to find her anywhere. Just as I'm about to ask, Prim answer my question as if reading my mind.

"Don't worry, she's in my bed. I found her passed out face first in the living room rug so I moved her to my bed about an hour ago."

"Thanks," I say with a hoarse voice. I pop the magic pill into my mouth and down the glass of water in two gulps. Ah, that feels…slightly better.

"I'm not sure when we got home. Around two maybe? Why? Did we wake you?" She shakes her head and stares at me with a smirk on her face as if she's waiting for me to continue.

"What?" I raise my eyebrows annoyingly and hope that the tone of my voice will wipe the smug look off her face.

"So, how did it go?"

Just because my head isn't pounding doesn't mean that it's clear enough to piece together all that happened last night. I'll need at least a day to piece that all together. It also doesn't mean that I'm about to discuss it with my little sister.

"It was fine," I say while propping myself up on my elbows. "I think I drank a little more than I expected, but overall it was fun I guess." I can sense that she's not satisfied with my answer and that I'm going to have to give her something more in order to get her to drop the subject.

"We talked. It was nice." She doesn't need to know what happened after we talked. I'd rather not relive it myself anyways.

"Uh huh." She sounds unimpressed by my lame answer. "How nice? Nice like how his behind looks in his tight jeans? Nice like his chiseled jawline? Nice like the bulge in his…"

"PRIM!" I throw a pillow at her and she goes crashing off the bed ass over teakettle. I'm worried for a split second until I hear her muffled laugh on the floor. "You can leave anytime now!" I screech. She crawls out of my room still laughing as I throw another pillow at her.

I need to brush my teeth, my mouth feels like a train wreck. I drag my sorry butt into the bathroom and grab for my toothbrush. I stare at myself in the mirror while brushing my teeth and notice a faint red mark on my wrist. Oh yeah, Cato. I wonder what happened to him after we left the party. Actually, I could really care less. He's still the same cocky bastard from high school. Some people never change I guess.

I find Johanna still fast asleep in Prim's bed a few minutes later. She still has on a face full of makeup from the night before and she looks uncomfortable, like her jeans are digging into her or something. Maybe she's got a shoe in her rib cage too. I try to sneak out to let her sleep a bit more but I ram my foot into the leg of Prim's desk on my way out.

"FUCK!" I hear Johanna rustle around in the sheets.

"Morning to you too," she mutters in a croaky voice. "Thanks for the wake up call."

"Go back to bed," I whimper while trying to hop out of the room on one leg. I think my toe is turning purple. Ew.

"Don't have to tell _me_ twice." She's out like a light before I make it to the door.

* * *

Johanna doesn't get up until well after noon, but no one really minds. She stumbles into the kitchen and opens the fridge in desperate need of water I'm sure. I toss her the bottle of Advil from the table and she misses it completely causing her to fall on her ass with a load thud. She flops down on the floor and sprawls out with a moan.

"Just leave me here and pretend I'm part of the floor."

I laugh and lay down next to her on the cool floor. It feels surprisingly refreshing and comfortable given my current state. I turn to face Johanna and she looks like she's passed out already again.

Johanna transferred to our school in seventh grade. I couldn't imagine transferring schools at that age. Everyone pretty much has their set cliques by then. She's originally from the west coast so you'd think she'd be one of those tanned, busty blondes that wears cut off jean shorts and tank tops everywhere. Instead, she showed up here on her first day of school with spiky purple hair sporting ripped jeans and a t-shirt with a skull with a fist through it. Let's just say Delly and her friends weren't first in line at the welcoming committee.

Johanna lived with her aunt and uncle for those first few years. I eventually learned that her dad traveled internationally for work quite a lot and her mom died when she was really young. She was alone most of her childhood while mostly under the care of nannies so her dad felt that she needed more family interaction and shipped her off here to live with her only living relatives. I didn't talk to her that much at first or even really pay attention to her until grade ten.

Finnick was having a pool party and she strolled in with a bottle of whisky that she stole from her uncle's liquor cabinet. Some guys were trying to dare me into jumping off the roof of Finnick's house into the pool. Little did they know that Finnick and I had been doing this stunt since we were ten, so I accepted the challenge no problem. She followed me up to the roof to get a better view I think but just as I was about to run into cannonball off the edge, Johanna punched me in the stomach and I fell like a bag of potatoes.

"That's what it'll feel like when you belly flop off the roof brainless. I just saved you the trouble." I remember her laughing her head off for schooling me and just staring up at her in bewilderment trying to catch my breath. She just laughed again and pulled me to my feet. "Here, drink this." I downed the glass of whisky and it burned my throat like hell. "My name's Johanna. I'm your new best friend." I laughed and shook my head. And that was that.

* * *

My shoulder blades are starting to feel sore from all the pressure from the tile floor but I can't really bring myself to move. I close my eyes and hope to catch a few more zzz's before Johanna wakes up again. Just as I'm about to doze off, I hear Johanna snort as she startles herself awake.

"Shit," she exclaims, "we need to get my truck." She rubs the sleep out of her eyes while yawning dramatically. "Fuuuuuuck. I can't move. Can you just roll me there?"

"Good luck with that. I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here on this floor."

"Come on. Please? You were the one who dragged us out of there in the first place." She sits up and kicks me in shin.

"Ow! What was that for?" I'm sure that will bruise later so I'll just add that to my ongoing list of injuries. "Oh shut up, you were in no condition to drive last night anyways. You kept telling me we had to turn left at every intersection to get home. You'd still be going in circles around Finnick's house if it wasn't for me."

"Fine fine. How about we get my truck and maybe get something to eat along the way? I get my ride and you get to fill your pie. Sound good?"

"Tempting." I frown in response to her trying to use my only weakness to her advantage.

"I'll fucking pay then, just to sweeten the deal."

"Fine."

* * *

I stumble back to my room and throw on a t-shirt and a pair of sweats that have been sitting on my floor for who knows how long. My sunglasses are sitting on my desk so I grab those too, it looks to be pretty nice out thankfully. By the time I get back to the kitchen, Johanna's sitting face down on the table twirling her keys on her hand.

"OK, let's do this," I say while sliding into my flip flops. A loud sigh is the only response I get from Johanna before I pull her off the table and towards the door.

I was right. It's an absolutely gorgeous day out and the fresh air is doing wonders for my body let alone my mood. The sun is shining a little too brightly for my liking, good thing I brought my shades along. It's pretty quiet out, but I guess it is Sunday so everyone's probably either having lunch after church or still in bed sleeping off the night before.

"So…are we gonna talk about what went down last night? Or am I still pretending that I didn't see anything."

"Well that depends, what do you think you saw exactly?"

"Hmmm, let's see. After Madge came running in freaking out, all I was able to get out of her was Cato, you, and help. By the time I grabbed Finnick and we got there, all I saw was Cato rolling around on the ground cursing about his balls so I can only assume someone sacked him, and then bread boy was holding your hand. Well, at least he was until we got closer, then you snatched it back and started screaming at him. Sound about right? Feel free to jump in here anytime now. You know, set the record straight and tell me what really happened."

"I kneed him," I reply flatly. "I didn't sack him."

"Well isn't that a relief," she sighs dramatically. "Hopefully that's the only action that dick got last night. I'm sure the rumor mill will be eating that shit up later. Who knows, by tomorrow you'll have given him the most intense hand job that he was out of commission for the rest of the night."

"Great, just what I need for my reputation."

"Whatever, I'm glad you were there though." Her voice takes on a more serious tone as she moves her sunglasses from her head to her face. "You know how Madge gets when she's wasted."

I do all too well. Madge has always been a light weight which has unfortunately also earned her a bit of a reputation for putting out while under the influence. She very rarely follows through though which has gotten her into a few sticky situations before, but nothing like last night.

"Yeah, me too. It was just…bad timing…for me that is." Bad timing is the story of my life when it comes to guys.

"So yeah, what happened there? I remember looking out a few times and seeing you two all cozy up in the gazebo. I had to direct a few drunkards in the other direction so that you wouldn't be interrupted. I guess Madge and Cato slipped under my radar."

"Am I supposed to thank you?" I ask maybe a bit too coldly. "I didn't know I needed to be helped."

"There it is again!" She shoves me and I almost fall off the sidewalk. "What's with the defensiveness? I've never known you to be one for so much drama. What's wrong with a little help once in a while anyways? Would it really kill you?"

A car honks as it goes by, I'm not sure if it was someone I know or if it was because I almost fell into oncoming traffic but it makes me jump. Johanna gives the car the finger as we resume walking. As much as the fresh air and the walking are doing for my body, my head is still swimming with so many emotions that I don't know how to start to sort them out.

"Sorry. I don't know what's up with me," I sigh. "It's like, ever since I left for school things didn't seem to get easier. They just seemed to get more complicated. There was no more black and white, so much grey area. Am I making any sense?"

"Um…maybe? Uh…no…not really. Are we talking about life in general or relationships?"

"Fuck, I don't know. Both?" I stop and stretch my shin on a tree. All this walking while recovering from a hangover maybe wasn't the best idea for my aching muscles. Maybe if I just start rambling something coherent will eventually come out. Sometimes this is how I figure things out, I just keep gabbing until things start to make sense.

"OK, let's start with relationships then." Johanna interjects. "Why are they so complicated? Correction, why do you _make_ them so complicated?"

"Well, with Peeta last night is a perfect example. Things were going great and I was really having a good time and then the second he tries to help me, fuck, stand up for me, I throw everything back in his face." I still remember his wounded look when I yelled at him. It was a mixture of hurt and confusion. "I don't know why I blew up at him, honestly. In my head I was like, shit, why did I even open my mouth. Nothing good ever comes of that. I can't even blame the alcohol. I wasn't even that drunk anymore. I don't know where all that anger came from but it wasn't directed to him at all. It's like he was just caught in the line of fire, in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"I don't get it. He likes you and I'm more than certain you feel something for him, even if you can't admit it to yourself yet. So why fight it? Just let it happen."

"It's not that easy –-"

"Well why the hell not!" she shouts. "For fucks sake Katniss! Just go with your gut for once and tell your mind to take the backseat!"

"I can't just turn off my brain, and I can't help it. It's like I'm trained to ruin things before they even have a chance to start. That sounds fucked up, doesn't it?" Of course it does, who in their right mind does that?

"Wow, someone must have really done a number on you to make you talk like that." She shakes her head as if she's disappointed in me, or my attitude more like it. "Well maybe that's a sign then. You know, maybe this isn't the right time to be starting anything serious."

Hmmm. She might be right. This year was pretty shitty in the relationship department so maybe I just need to take a break all together and be alone for awhile. Bu then why does the thought of being alone make me feel so…shitty. "I don't think it's that I'm not ready to be in a relationship, I think I'm just sick of the bullshit that comes with it. Why do I always seem to attract the wrong type of guy?"

"What? Like who?" she asks. It's then I realize that I've never really let Johanna in on my recent relationship attempts. I suck as a best friend.

"Uh, let's see…there was The Stalker…The Couch Dweller…The Mooch…oh and of course Gale, I don't really have a nickname for him yet. Too soon I think."

"Gale? As in _Gale Hawthorne_?" The way she says his name makes me cringe. "Shit, you never said anything about him! Details, I need fucking details! Way to go Everdeen! I never knew you had it in you! I heard he's like a god in the sack -"

"Uh, I wouldn't be so sure." I cut her off before she can divulge into any hearsay about Gale's extra curricular activities. "Things aren't always what they're built-up to be Johanna."

"Fine then, I can sense that you're not going to give me anything to write home about." I'm glad she's decided to drop the subject as I'm not in the mood to talk about Gale. "So, then what's wrong with Peeta?"

"What do you mean what's wrong with him?" What kind of a question is that? Nothing. There's absolutely nothing wrong with him. "Uh…nothing?"

"Exactly, you just proved your own theory wrong. Peeta's more than just attracted to you and I may not be the best at this match making shit but how can he be anything else but right for you? So yeah, maybe you had to kiss a few frogs before finding Prince Charming, or before noticing him at least. Who cares?"

We come upon a park that I remember playing in when I was little. I motion for Johanna to follow me as I lead her across the street. There's a large water fountain in the middle that we used to swim in after dark. We never got caught and I'm sure no one cared anyway but I always felt like such a bad ass when we did. We sit on the edge of the fountain and I wipe the sweat starting to bead along my hairline.

"Do you really believe in that kind of stuff?" I dip my hand in the water and it's cool and refreshing. "Not the whole Prince Charming thing but you know, that there's really someone out there in the world that you're meant to be with?"

"If I had known we were going to get all serious and shit I should have called in for backup." He sarcastic tone isn't lost on me so I splash her with fountain water which even though feels nice and cool; it's kind of slimy. Ew, there's too much algae growing in here. Johanna looks thoroughly unimpressed but her face softens and she continues, "Seriously though? Yeah, I think I do."

I've never really had a conversation like this with Johanna. We've always steered away from the topics that we knew made the other uncomfortable. Well, come to think of it, I mainly steered away from certain topics; she just always followed my lead and never probed too much.

"Then…how do you know when...you know, the right one comes along?"

Johanna sits silent for a minute. I can tell by the concentration on her face that she really wants to give me an honest answer.

"Well I can't say from experience, but I would like to think that there's something, something that just happens when you know, it happens. Like a spark or something that makes you think 'Hey, this is new'."

I'd like to think I know what she's talking about but I honestly haven't got a clue. I've never felt something like that for someone. Nope, pretty sure there hasn't been any sparks before. Is that a bad thing?

"Let's keep walking," Johanna stands and pulls me up. I get lost in my thoughts again as we stroll into the downtown area. Being Sunday in a small town, most of the shops are closed but there are a select few open so the sidewalks aren't completely void of life.

Johanna clears her throat and breaks my train of thought. "I also don't think you'll find it if you go looking for it. I think one day, when the moments right and you least expect it, it'll just happen. But that's just what I think. For all I know, I'm talking out of my ass. So maybe I'm not the most reliable source out there, you know broken family and all so it's not like I've had good role models for that kind of shit either."

Well at least she still has a positive outlook on relationships. I feel as though I'm still tainted by the bitterness of my past failures. Maybe she's right though. Maybe it'll just happen when I least expect it, or maybe it's already happened and I've just chosen not to see it. Fuck. Finnick's right. I'm pretty dense for a so called smart person.

"I think I know what you're getting at. Even if Peeta may be, as you say, the _right one_ for me, I think that ship may have sailed already. He probably doesn't even want to see my sorry face again after my behavior last night." I keep replaying the awful scene in my head trying to imagine how the night should have ended. I'm just torturing myself now.

"Psshhh! Just a minor setback Everdeen, that's all."

"That's all? You were fucking there! You saw what I did, the look on his face. I might as well have kicked a little puppy. Oh god I'm a horrible person. I really do need help and I really need to apologize to him." I stop in my tracks and hang my head back and close my eyes.

"You know, you sure haven't lost your ability to over react." Johanna nudges my shoulder to keep me moving.

"Thanks. So I've heard. Come on, if our roles were reversed, you wouldn't have done the same thing."

She taps her pointer finger to her chin like she's mulling it over in her head.

"You're right, I wouldn't have. I would have sent Cato to the ER instead if it had been me. So yeah, I guess you're right about that one."

I roll my eyes at her, "You're not helping the situation."

"For fucks sake Katniss! How much more help do you need? I can't hold your hand through everything!"

I haven't been paying attention to where we are since my body has been on autopilot. I look up and see the familiar blue and white stripes of the patio umbrellas. Shit. I start to panic. "What are we doing _here_?"

"You said it yourself, you need help. Plus I said we would get something to eat. So here we are! Now go apologize!" She pushes me towards the entrance and I come face to face with the big white letters printed across the door, _Mellark's Bakery_.

"Shit Johanna! If I had known that we were going to come _here_, I would have…" I trail off as I glance at my reflection in the front window and cringe. Ugh, I look like hell in my white tee, baggy grey sweats, and flip flops. Couldn't I have picked something a little more…flattering?

"You would have what? Dressed for the occasion? Fucking relax. He's probably not even working today," she says with a smirk.

I hope to God she's right. I push open the door and a little bell rings signaling my presence.

Well, here goes nothing.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** This fanfic is rated 'M' for language and sexual content. I do not own any of the characters of The Hunger Games, although I wish I did.

* * *

**Chapter 8: The Apology**

I haven't been to Mellark's Bakery in awhile but I find that nothing's really changed over the years. The patio furniture out front looked like it's been repainted and the main sign overhead looked cleaner, but over all that's about it. I'm glad though. I like how it looks and wouldn't want them to change it.

Mellark's Bakery was always the only bakery in town, well, for as long as I could remember. I've always loved the feeling of this place and the delicious sweet and savory scents that greet you at the door. It's not a huge space, but it's always had a quaint, coziness to it.

When you walk through the front door, there are two long wooden counters on each side that run the full length of the walls which flank the register and glass display case at the back. Behind the wooden counters, large built-ins cover the walls and are made from what I think is black walnut. The shelves hold baskets over flowing with breads of all different shapes and sizes imaginable. Each basket is labeled with a hand written chalk sign which I think adds a personal touch. Something about all the wood in the room makes me feel at ease here.

I remember when Prim and I were younger and my mother used to take us shopping downtown. We would always walk by the bakery and stare into the window at all the intricately decorated cakes and cupcakes. The wedding cakes were always Prim's favorite so I promised her that one day when the time came, I'd buy her wedding cake from Mellark's Bakery.

I'm brought back to reality by the heavy footsteps from someone in the back room, Mr. Mellark probably, or the eldest Mellark son perhaps. My stomach growls loudly and I grip my stomach as I make my way towards the back to the display case full of fresh pastries.

"Be with you in a minute!" a voice rings out from the back.

Shit, just my luck. He would be working the Sunday morning shift after a party now wouldn't he. I can feel all of my built up courage from my talk with Johanna quickly leaving me. I can't make a run for it now though, it would be way too obvious since he already knows someone's here.

I look over my shoulder and glare back at Johanna's form through the window although I can't tell if she can even see me. If looks could kill she'd be six feet under by now. I have a sneaky suspicion she knew damn well that he'd be working this morning. I'm not sure how though, but I'm certain of it…trader.

I try to look occupied by staring up at the chalk board menu overhead and cross my arms in front of me, unsure of what to do with them. Hmmmm…Johanna usually gets a whole wheat bagel. I scan the bagel choices and of course they have five different types of whole wheat bagels here. Twelve grain. Ancient Grain. Honey Whole Wheat. Multigrain Blueberry. Honey and Oats. God, when did whole wheat bagels get so complicated? I peruse the rest of the menu hoping for something to spark my interest. I notice they've added a whole section dedicated to sandwiches…that's new.

"Sorry that took so long, I was just grabbing some fresh loaves out of the oven." Peeta backs out of the doorway and runs his had through his messy bed head as he turns around. "Oh! Katniss…uh, hey! Well isn't this a surprise!"

He leans forward onto the counter with both hands and I can see he's totally covered in flour. I'm pretty sure there's some on his left temple and definitely some streaked across his forehead. I have to restrain myself to not brush it off because I think I'd be out of line for touching him right now, but my God he looks cute. He's wearing the classic blue and white apron with _Mellark Bakery_ embroidered across the front, those haven't changed either thank goodness.

"Uh, yeah, hey," I manage to get out. I start to look around as I try to gather my thoughts. "Not much has changed I see," I say while motioning to the surroundings with my eyebrows. "I see you have sandwiches now too…nice addition."

I'm going to see how long I can delicately side step around the elephant in the room. I need to get a feel for him first, see if he's totally annoyed by my presence, or worse, indifferent.

"Yeah we added them about eight months ago, well worth it in my opinion. There's usually a line right out the door come lunchtime on weekdays."

I study his face and voice for any sort of dead give away but I don't find anything. In fact, he seems completely himself, the same enthusiastic and friendly guy from the grocery store yesterday afternoon. Oh God, was that only yesterday? I've gone from hiding in my house like a hermit to causing a scene like a fool at Finnick's party in less than twenty-four hours. Imagine what I could accomplish if I actually put my mind to it.

"So, what can I do for you?" he asks with a toothy smile that makes my heart skip a beat.

Um, let's see, where to start…oh right. Can you forgive me for being an absolute bitch? Maybe give me a chance to make it up to you? Believe me when I say that last night was the most amazing night I've had in ages? Maybe I'll leave that last part out, don't want to sound too desperate.

I stare back at him as I nervously chew my bottom lip. Everything made sense in my head less than five minutes ago and it seemed easy enough confessing everything to Johanna, but when push comes to shove, I just suck. Just say it already! I take a deep breath and open my mouth to respond.

"Um, I'll get a honey whole wheat bagel toasted with butter and…uh…" I trail off into silence. Fuck. I'm such a spaz. Now that I'm under pressure to make a decision, I look down into the pastry display case and force myself to decide on something. Anything. It all looks good though, maybe I'll just order one of everything.

"How about a cheese bun?" he suggests, breaking the silence. I'm glad as it was starting to get awkward. I look back into the display case and don't see any. Disappointment begins to register on my face. He's just teasing me from my random outburst from last night.

"Ha ha. Very funny," I respond sarcastically.

"No really, I just finished a batch," he chuckles. "They're cooling right now. I'll be right back." He disappears into the back again and I let out a loud sigh. I rub my sweaty palms on my sweats. Huh, how ironic.

As much as my taste buds are jumping for joy in anticipation of Peeta's cheese buns, I don't feel like I deserve one. I have to get my shit together because we really need discuss what happened last night if I'm going to make any headway with him, and he really deserves an apology. Like, now.

He reappears from the back walking backwards carrying a stray of still steaming cheese buns. The heavenly smell that wafts over me in addition to how Peeta's black sweats are hanging off his backside makes me swallow loudly.

"He we go," he says while setting the tray down on the counter. "Right…toasted bagel."

He grabs a bagel from a basket to his left and begins to slice it effortlessly, like he's done it a million times before. I can't help but watch him work. He's in his element here. He places the two slices onto the toaster and wipes his hands down on his apron before turning to me. I notice that his lips are pursed and his eyebrows are furrowed. Shit, he looks disappointed. I brace myself for the verbal thrashing I'm sure to come my way.

"So, about last night, I'm sorry if I was a bit…forward. I didn't mean to scare you off."

What. The. Fuck. I'm speechless. Why is _he_ apologizing? For being forward? Uh, I'm pretty sure _I_ instigated almost everything that transpired between us. _I'm_ also the one who's supposed to be begging for forgiveness right now for acting like a complete bitch. I have to stop him before he apologizes for anything else.

"No Peeta, wait…you have nothing to apologize for, trust me. I'm the one at fault here." My voice is starting to falter as I try to formulate a respectable apology. "Listen, I…I'm uh…really sorry about how I acted last night. My behavior was, how should I say…inexcusable really. I shouldn't have snapped at you and I didn't mean to run out on you like that, I'm really really sorry."

I'm not even going to try and explain myself any further. My reaction was completely unjustified so I'm not going to try and give him any excuses. God I'm a horrible person. I'm such a fucking mess.

"Hey, it's fine Katniss, really," he says while scratching the back of his head. "I just wish I could have walked you home afterwards, you know, make sure you got home alright."

Is he always such a gentleman? How is this guy even single still? I'm actually glad he didn't attempt to walk me home. He wouldn't have wanted to see me like that. Shit, it was bad enough having Johanna see me at such a low point. How did I let myself get so worked up? Normally I can keep that kind of stuff under control and only really explode when I'm alone in my room.

The two bagel slices fall off the toaster conveyor with a thud. He promptly butters them, cuts it in half, and wraps it before placing it into a brown paper bag.

"How's your wrist?" he questions while leaning over the counter to get a better look at my hand. I quickly take a step back and self consciously cover it with my other hand.

"Oh, its fine…totally fine. Don't worry about it…but uh, thanks for asking," I stammer. I take a deep breath, I need to get this off my chest now before it eats me alive and the moment passes.

"Listen Peeta," I start while forcing myself to look at his face. He's leaning back against the back counter now with his hands crossed over his chest. Great, the universal indication for defensiveness and reluctance, this is going to go over well. I push my nerves to the side and trudge on.

"I've been thinking about what you said last night, and I was…uh…kinda hoping we could maybe…start over? You know? Clean slate?" Ugh, this isn't coming out at _all_ as how I would have hoped. He's staring at me intently, not saying a single world. I can hear him breathing from here.

I can't stand awkward silences so I continue to ramble, "Well, what I mean is, can you give me another chance? Cause, I really do want to see where this…," I motion between us with my hand, "I want to see where this could go. If…if you still want to that is. I mean, I totally understand if you don't, especially after last night…" I trail off. I should really just stop while I'm at it and keep my mouth shut.

His pointed stare and emotionless expression is starting to freak me out. I have to leave before he laughs in my face and I end up feeling like an even bigger idiot and I already do. I reach out to grab the bag that's sitting on the counter in front of me but he's quicker and grabs it while backing out of my reach.

"I still need to get you your cheese bun." He swipes one off the rack and drops it into the bag. "Here, it's on the house."

I give him a confused look as he hands me the bag. Our fingers brush against each others and I feel a shock course through my body that causes the hairs on my arm to stand on end. My eyes widen in response. Huh. Well that was…interesting.

"So, we're still on for tomorrow then." He breaks out into a smile as I retract my hand and the bag clumsily.

"Tomorrow? Um, you mean, the movie? Yeah of…of course."

"Perfect."

"But my treat though. You know, to make up for last night…and these," I hold up the bag of goodies and rattle the contents.

"We'll see, I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Yeah, see you tomorrow."

The door chimes behind us as an old woman shuffles in and parks it next to me at the pastry display. That's my cue to leave so I turn and quickly head for the exit.

Just before I back out of the door, I look over and Peeta gives me a quick smile before turning his attention back to the old woman. I can feel warmth spread across my chest and I can't help the smile that creeps across my face. Well, that went better than I expected. I can't help but laugh to myself a bit; maybe I've been too uptight about the whole situation. Thank God Johanna talked some sense into me.

Johanna's sitting at one of the patio tables wearing her over sized sunglasses while picking at her nails with the pocket knife on her key chain She doesn't notice me as I grab the cheese bun out of the bag and inhale the delicious scent. I take a huge, unladylike bite and moan as I swallow, the cheesy goodness lingering on my tongue. Johanna still doesn't acknowledge me so I throw the bag at her face and she jumps. She's just about to hurl an insult at me for sure, but I think the grin plastered across my face changes her mind.

"So, it went that well huh. See? I'm a fucking genius." She opens the bag and fishes out her bagel. "Now, finish making out with that cheese bun and let's get my damn truck. I gotta get home and change out of these fucking clothes."

* * *

"Katniss? Is that you?" I hear my father shout from the kitchen as I shut the front door behind me and throw my sunglass on the hall table.

"Yup, what's up?" I respond as I make my way to the kitchen where he's leaning against the counter finishing off a sandwich. I feel like I haven't seen my father in days with him working crazy hours at the quarry this past week. His grey eyes look bright with enthusiasm.

"So, I talked to my boss and he said you can come in on Wednesday for an interview. It's more of a formality really, the job is yours if you still want it. You'll be reporting to Haymitch Abernathy, although that may be more of a deterrent for taking job than an incentive." My father laughs as he places his now empty plate on the counter.

One of the main reasons I had to come back home for the summer was because I couldn't find a job at the university. I was too caught up in studying for exams that I missed the deadline to apply for any jobs around campus so it was either hang around school with no income or return home in hopes of finding something.

The company my father works for, Panem Aggregates, takes on summer students so I asked him to see if he could pull some strings and find me a spot. He said there were some openings in the engineering department which would definitely be up my alley. The thought of having a job at the quarry makes me ecstatic; having something like that on my resume would be amazing.

"Of course!" I blurt out with excitement. "That's awesome, thanks dad!" I throw my arms around his waist in a tight hug. I feel like I'm twelve again as I giggle into his chest.

"Whoa there, don't thank me yet," he laughs as he places a quick peck on my head. "Let me know how you feel if you survive your first day with Haymitch. Then we'll see how much you'll be thanking me."

The idea of securing a job for the summer is a huge weight off my shoulders. Although my parents have been more than generous in helping to fund my education, I can't help but feel like I owe them so much more. Having some extra cash for the fall might help alleviate the nagging feeling I have of being a financial burden on my parents.

"Now, go take a shower, you smell like sweat and a hangover," he jokes as he playfully pushes me out of the kitchen.

I can't help but smile as I grab a towel and head for the bathroom. Maybe things for the summer are starting to look up?

* * *

That night I have a hard time falling asleep. I'm not sure if it's due to the excitement over my new job or the anxiety over my date with Peeta tomorrow. Wait? Is it officially a date? Johanna seems to think so, but I'm not so sure. Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. I have no clue. Why am I making this so complicated? Why the hell did I agree to this in the first place? Shit.

I stare up at the ceiling trying to clear my head so I can drift off to sleep. I start to count the number of glow in the dark stars that still cover my ceiling from when I was little. When I get to sixteen I start to see white…

"Katniss?"

I turn my head to the sound of his voice. When I open my eyes, I'm face to face with the most beautiful man I've ever seen. I lazily prop my head up on my elbow and can't fight off the smile that wants to occupy my face. His eyes are two large pools of excitement and affection. There's something else there though…a longing, a want. I want to get lost in those eyes.

He's on his side wearing nothing but boxers. I take in his body, lingering over every curve and every muscle. The curve of his shoulder muscles. The curves of his chest. The ripples of his abdominal muscles. The line of hair that starts at his belly button and disappears underneath his underwear. I want to reach out and trace that line with my finger tips, see where it leads.

"Katniss?"

The way he whispers my name sounds like music to my ears. I glance back to his captivating face and see the tip of his tongue appear in the corner of his mouth as if he's tasting something there.

"Hmmm?" I finally respond with a sigh.

I can't form actual words at the moment. I'm too busy imagining the tip of his tongue and what it tastes like. It feels so warm with him here, in bed with me.

"You're so beautiful."

He slowly inches the sheet covering my naked body lower and lower until it falls past my bare breasts. He stops. His eyes begin to slowly trace down my face from my eyes to my lips, to the curve of my neck and to my collarbone, drinking me in. He finally stops at the newly exposed skin. His burning stare causes my nipples to slowly harden and I can see his eyes do the same.

He reaches out and begins to gently trace circles around my left nipple with his fingertips and I inhale deeply as my pulse quickens. I can smell him. I can smell the desire on his skin. His thumb lightly brushes over my nipple eliciting a moan from the back of my throat. His eyes snap back up to meet mine as his warm hand begins to knead faster. Harder. My eyes flutter closed and a grin creeps onto my face.

His hand is on the move again, this time inching the sheet lower to rest on my hip. He traces the outline of my body, slowly dragging his fingertips along the slope between my breast and my hips.

"I think this is my favorite part of you," he murmurs as he traces the slope again and again. His touch causes goose bumps to appear and I let out a timid laugh.

"Watching you lay here…smiling…letting me touch you like this. You have no idea what it's doing to me right now."

My eyes begin to roam over his body and down to the swell in his boxers. He watches as I nervously bite my lower lip and he chuckles.

"Not tonight." He lifts my chin up to look me in the eye. "Tonight is all about you."

He leans over, closing the gap between our bodies and gently places his lips to mine. The slight friction causes my lips to tingle. Then I feel a hunger deep down in my core. I lean into him as our kiss becomes more heated. I need more of him. I need to taste more of him.

His tongue darts out and traces my bottom lip, coaxing my tongue until it meets his with fervor. Without breaking the kiss, he shifts us until I'm flat on my back and he hovers over me, his hands capturing my waist. I frown when his lips leave mine as they trace along my neck, his tongue tasting my skin ever so slightly.

My head is getting foggy and my stomach starts to clench. His lips stop at my right breast as he blows out a warm breath. My body reacts without my minds consent as my hips buck to meet him. His erection rubs against my clit and I can't hold back the groan building up in my throat. He pushes down and forces my body back down to the bed, causing even more friction between us.

His mouth claims mine again as his fingers glide along my stomach to my center. He parts my folds and begins to spread my arousal with his fingers.

"I know you've been waiting for this," he moans into my mouth. He plunges two fingers into me and start to slowly pump. His thumb finds my clit and he begins circling it in rhythm with his fingers, faster and harder. I can start to feel myself come undone when his lips move to my neck, sucking and grazing his teeth against my skin. I arch my back in pleasure as he sighs into my neck.

"Come for me Katniss…"

My eyes suddenly burst open and I'm seeing stars. My breathing is heavy and fast. I reach out beside me, feeling the sheets around me. I'm alone.

Did that just happen? I reach down between my legs and find my underwear soaked. Fuck. I strip them off and decide I can't be bothered to get a fresh pair. I'll just sleep without them.

When I close my eyes again all I can see is cobalt blue eyes staring back at me from behind my eyelids. Great. I'm not going to get much sleep tonight, am I?

* * *

**Author's Note: ** There's a little parting gift for you all before I'm off for the holidays! Hope you enjoyed it and please review and let me know if you like the direction this story is going so far. Have a safe and happy holiday!

Check me out at tumblr if you do that kinda thing…I tend to post things regarding this fic there. Details are on my profile page. Thanks!


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** This fanfic is rated 'M' for language and sexual content. I do not own any of the characters of The Hunger Games.

* * *

**Chapter 9: The Movies**

"So why isn't he picking you up? I thought he was, you know, a gentleman."

Prim still has this fairy tale idea that when it comes to romance and relationships, that every guy is Prince Charming. As protective as I am of her, I'm afraid that's one thing I won't be able to protect her from forever…relationships are complicated. They're not black and white. There's too much grey area. But for now, I don't have the heart to taint her outlook on love with my biased cynicism.

"Because I said I'd meet him there. Now are you going to help me find something to wear or should I just go in this?" I motion to the fluffy beige towel wrapped around my body then flip my hair forward to wrap it up in an old Mickey and Goofey towel that I've had since I was seven. Classy. I know.

Half the contents of my closet is now scattered in heaps across my bed and in piles on the floor. The only decision I've been able to make so far is my typical "sexy" undergarments which consist of a black bra and black cotton underwear. Not that I'm expecting anything to happen really, but better to be safe than sorry. I even shaved my legs. Prim made an earlier comment about "stepping up my game" but it's kind of hard when you don't have any game to begin with. She also somehow convinced me to paint my nails again since I've pretty much chewed off the coat of polish from two days ago.

"I'm sure he'd _love_ to see you in that getup..minus the towel!"

I throw a pillow at Rue's head in hopes of wiping the smug look off her face.

"Who invited you anyways," I mumble while digging through my dresser for a pair of socks.

Mental note, I really need to update my wardrobe. Maybe Madge will be free before my interview on Wednesday. I don't have anything respectable that says '_please hire me, I'm a responsible adult'_. Most of what I deem as "professional attire" screams more '_please hire me, you're my only hope'_.

"Well is it an official date or what?" Prim questions me for the hundredth time while she thumbs through the few dresses hanging in my closet.

"I told you, I have no clue what it is. We're just watching a movie I guess. I'm not even sure if we're doing anything afterwards."

Although, I'd be lying if I said I hoped that the night would end after the movie. I somehow finally managed to fall into a fitful sleep after my dream last night. When I awoke this morning twisted in my sheets that were damp from my sweat and with no panties on, I immediately had to take a cold shower as the details of my dream came flooding back. That's never happened to me before. Sure, I've had dreams before where I've made out with a celebrity or some random hot guy I met at the bar or at school in passing, but never anything like that. For the most part of the day I haven't been able to think about Peeta without my legs involuntarily squeezing shut. Ugh.

"Oh I'm sure he won't end it after that, it's only a matinee so by the time you get out of there it'll be like what, five? Oh! Maybe he'll take you out for a fancy dinner afterwards or coffee!" Prim flops onto my bed with a dramatic sigh while clutching a navy blue dress I wore to our cousin's wedding two years ago.

"No dresses," I grumble before she can even suggest it. "It's not that warm out anyways. What about jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt or something?"

Prim huffs and gives me an unenthusiastic look. "Fine, well at least try to look a _little_ sexy. Wear the black leggings with that green sweater over there and the brown boots. That'll look hot."

I don't know how she does it. I've somehow managed to build quite a collection of clothes over the years but I've never had the patience to figure out how to put any of it together.

"Oh, and wear your hair down," Rue adds while spraying perfume into the air, "guys like it when they can run their fingers through your hair".

"Uhhhhhh, right," I reply while trying to work a brush through the knots in my hair. "Who would want to touch—this—ouch!"

"Just gimme that!" Rue demands as she snatches the brush out of my hand.

I should probably feel a hit to my pride for having two teenagers as my beauty team, but who am I kidding? I need all the help I can get in this department. Twenty minutes later Rue has somehow turned my dull, dry strands into shiny, luscious commercial worthy locks with a little product and a flat iron. I finish getting dressed in the outfit Prim laid out for me on my bed and do a turn around before Prim gives me two thumbs up and a smile in approval.

I take a look in the mirror and nod in agreement. Not bad, not bad at all. I guess I can clean up really well when I try. Rue applies some mascara to my lashes and as I'm about to leave the room, she sprays me with one of the fruity smelling perfumes that's been sitting on my dresser for God knows how long. I'm not so sure that was necessary, I don't want to look like I'm trying too hard or something. It's just a movie.

* * *

I'm waiting outside the theater entrance when I hear my name being behind me.

"Katniss!" I twist my head around as he jogs up to my side. "Sorry I'm a little late, hope you weren't waiting too long?"

"Nope, I just got here too," I reply while fidgeting with the strap of my purse and pressing the lock button on my key chain one more time for good measure. I wait to hear the _beep_ from my father's sedan as it locks before putting them away. My usually trusty Honda Civic has been giving me grief lately so I decided to take the more reliable option of my father's 2002 Buick Regal, also known as the Grandma Wagon to Prim and I.

Being a Monday afternoon, the streets were pretty quiet on my way here so it didn't matter that I left my house fifteen minutes later than I had hoped. I hate being late. My family is notorious for showing up at least fifteen minutes late for everything while growing up. I'm sure it's what turned me into such a punctual tight ass. At one point when I was ten, I was so fed up with always showing up embarrassing late to school functions and social events that it caused me to set all the clocks in our house fifteen minutes early. No one has ever bothered to change the clocks back so they've all stayed that way ever since.

I can feel his eyes on me and I automatically cross my arms across my chest to try and distract his attention.

"Wow, you look really beautiful. I kinda feel under dressed."

Before I can respond, he pulls me into a welcoming hug that lingers for a second longer than I would deem necessary. His embrace sends warmth shooting to all my extremities and I'm momentarily frozen in place. Visions of his hands exploring my bare waist start to replay in my head again. Ugh, not now! Think of something else! I shut my eyes forcefully in hopes of breaking my train of thought.

I can't help but breathe him in due to our proximity, so it's not really helping my situation. This time he smells of shampoo and something woodsy. I like it, but it's doing quite the number on my hormones so I pull myself together and break away from the hug.

My eyes do a quick once over of him and hope to god it didn't look like I was blatantly checking him out. I don't know what he's worried about; he looks like an abercrombie model, but with a shirt. He's wearing a black hoodie over an orange polo shirt with faded jeans and his hair is still a little damp.

"Thanks, you look nice too," is all I can manage without stuttering.

We walk into the theater which is thankfully pretty empty, I hate crowds. They make me feel claustrophobic. We find the closest ticket kiosk and he bats my hand away when I try to buy the tickets, mumbling something about it being his idea anyways.

I'm not going to argue though. It feels more like a date to me this way. Then it dawns on me that this is the closest thing to a _real_ date that I've been on, well, ever really. All the guys I hooked up with at university either never made it to dating status or were just there as a stress relief. Even Gale. I thought maybe we'd be different since we connected so well, but our relationship never really made it past nightly visits to either my place or his. Maybe it was our conflicting class schedules, but as time went on I realized that it's just the way it was between us. It never really bothered me. Shit. Why am I even thinking about him?

Peeta pockets the tickets and leads us to the concession stand where we're greeted by a skinny brunette tween who is staring at Peeta with ridiculous puppy dog eyes. He shoots her back a toothy grin which I'm sure breaks her little heart to pieces and all I can do is shake my head at the pair of them.

"So, what do you feel like?" he asks.

Good question. Definitely something sweet. I'm staring at all the candy, literally like a kid in a candy store, and internally debating the pros and cons between my favorite Twizzlers and the king size Twix bar, when I feel his hand move to the small of my back.

"Tough decision, I know," he teases as I look back to him and shrug. "Why don't we share a bag of twizzlers? They're your favorite, aren't they?"

What? How does he know that?

"Um, yeah. Sounds good…those are my favorite actually," I reply suspiciously. He just smiles and pulls out a twenty to pay the girl. "Hey I got this, you got the tickets."

"Don't worry about it. I think I can handle it. _I'm_ the one who asked _you_ to the movies, remember?"

His sweet gesture has the opposite effect and it actually starts to frustrate me. I can pay for my own god damn ticket and my own food, does he think I'm not capable or something? I have to remind myself that as Prim would put it, he's just being a gentleman and I should let it go.

When we get to the theater, I find my frustration fading as we find a pair of seats towards the back. The place is almost empty thank God. That's why I love weekday matinees. Not having to break someone's leg trying to get into a crowded row or having to deal with twits kicking the back of your seat as they rest their disgusting shoes on the back of your headrest.

After we're settled in our seats I go to place my purse down on the floor between my feet but think twice about it. I don't want to know what's been on this floor. So I opt for placing it on the empty seat next to me. I pull my phone out to make sure it's on silent so I'm not that loser whose phone goes off in the middle of the movie, eliciting death stares from everyone around me.

I'm startled when I feel Peeta take my hand in his. I look down at our intertwined hands and then back up to his face, trying to fight the urge to take my hand back. He's just grinning as he watches the promotional theater commercials. I look back down to our hands again but decide I'm OK with it. I did say I wanted to give this a chance, so this is me doing just that. We'll see if this goes anywhere.

I blankly stare at the Coke commercial that's on the screen in front of me and think back to why I got so worked up when he offered to pay for everything. It's hard for me to accept. Help from anyone that is, especially guys. I told myself I wouldn't let Gale creep back into my thoughts anymore but I can't help it in this situation. I'm comparing the two of them already. In this situation, Gale would have let me pay for everything. Hell, he would even have asked me to pick him up and drive us here. I was so caught up in trying to do everything myself that I didn't realize that he was walking all over me. I feel my face frowning at the thought.

"Penny for your thoughts?" He smiles at me, unaware of the shit storm going on in my head. "Although, I personally think yours are worth a whole lot more."

I can't help but offer him a shy smile. Why is he so cute and incredibly sweet to me? All I've been doing so far has been sending him hot and cold signals that even have me frustrated with myself. That's another one of my talents that I've perfected over the years, feigning indifference even when I'm having a mental breakdown.

"Oh nothing," I reply casually, "I didn't sleep well last night. I think the lack of sleep is finally catching up with me." Before he can say anything the lights dim, the speakers start blaring, and the screen comes alive again.

* * *

Half way through the movie I start to curse my small bladder and the half empty extra large Coke sitting in my armrest. I cross and uncross my legs trying to push back my growing urge to pee. I can't take it anymore as I almost shoot up out of my seat, releasing Peeta's hand from my grip. He looks up at me startled and confused.

"Call of nature…sorry," I whisper. He smiles and gives me a slight nod in understanding before turning back to the movie.

I try to make my way to the back of the dark theater as quickly as possible without tripping over my feet in the process. The theater is pretty empty with only a few couples and small groupings of heads scattered throughout the seats. I see a couple sucking each others faces at the very back and shake my head at the sight. Bow chicka wow wow. Someone's getting lucky. I can't help but look over again and unexpectedly lock eyes with guy whose hands are buried deep in the blonde girls locks.

Shit.

He pulls away from her face slightly and gives me a wicked one sided grin as his grey eyes burn right through me. What. The. Fuck. I force my feet to start moving again and have to stop myself from practically running through the swinging doors at the back. I almost trip over my own feet in the hallway as I frantically search for the ladies washroom. I don't release the breath I've been holding until I push into the bathroom and grip one of the sinks tightly.

"What the FUCK!" I yell at my reflection in the mirror. I immediately look around to make sure there's no one else in the stalls. I take a deep breath before remembering why I'm even here in the first place. After relieving myself I wash my hands and splash some cold water on my flushed cheeks.

What the hell is he doing here? Why is he even back home?

He said he got a job on campus and wouldn't be back for the summer. I was relieved when I found out actually, although I don't think that was the reaction he was expecting when he tried to "let me down gently". I'm sure he expected me to cry and beg for him to find something else back at home but I just shrugged my shoulders with indifference and wished him luck with the job. He stormed out of my room after that and we broke up three days later. Or at least I'm pretty sure we broke up. He stopped all lines of communication with me. No more emails. No more calls. No more texts. That was over two months ago.

He'd given me the silent treatment before, usually after we fought. It was almost a routine for us, but it never lasted more than a day before he'd come back around begging for makeup sex. We fought like hell and fucked liked animals. Sometimes I felt like it was too much, like our relationship was slowly burning me alive. There was too much fire between us and when playing with fire, someone's always destined to get burned.

I take a deep breath before looking up at my reflection again. Thank God I didn't wear too much makeup, I'm sure it'd be melting off my face right now due to the heat radiating off my cheeks. I push a few loose strands of hair behind my ears. At least I still look somewhat decent.

The hand dryer blows comforting warm air against my cold, clammy hands as I briefly entertain the thought of not returning to the movie and high tailing it out of here. Oh fucking grow up already. Besides, my purse is still inside the theater, how would I get home? Guilt washes over me for even thinking about ditching Peeta.

My plan is to take the high road…and pretend I didn't see him. I straighten my posture as I carefully walk back to my seat, keeping my eyes trained ahead of me and praying I don't fall on my face.

Peetas face lights up upon my return and I mentally scold myself for thinking about leaving him a few minutes earlier. I flash him a smile in response and knit my fingers with his once again before taking my seat. Not being one for PDA and far from the mushy romantic type, I surprise myself when I rest my head against his shoulder. He places his cheek against the top of my head and I think I feel a smile spread across his face. He feels so solid and warm and his steady breathing is like a lullaby. I could fall asleep right here, right now, given the chance.

* * *

I'm startled awake when Peeta shifts besides me. The lights in the theater are glowing dimly and the credits are rolling on the screen in front of me. I straighten myself up and can't help the yawn that escapes my mouth as I stretch my arms above my head.

"Good sleep?" he laughs as he takes in my sleepy face.

Holy shit. It takes me a second to recognize where I am again and what I've just been doing. As realization hits me I frantically feel my hair and start to smooth it out, hoping I don't have too bad a case of bed head.

"You look fine, stop worrying," he says, trying to still my hand.

"Why didn't you wake me up? I missed the end of the movie," I frown trying to feign disappointment but in reality I'm thankful for the chance to slip in that much needed power nap.

"You looked so peaceful. I didn't have the heart to wake you."

The thought of Peeta watching me sleep makes me wince with embarrassment. Oh god, I hope I didn't drool on him or something. I try to discreetly look at his shoulder but he's wearing black so there's no evidence to tell if I did or not. Shit.

"You were smiling in your sleep…good dream?"

I can't remember dreaming about anything but I hope to God that if I did, it was a reprise of the one from last night. I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly before answering, "I guess, I can't really remember."

Peeta rises to his feet and holds out his open hand to me, "Shall we?"

I reach down beside me, blindly feeling for my purse before taking his hand. He leads us back out to the now somewhat crowded hallway. I feel like I might have to pee again but once I catch sight of the line out the door to the ladies room, I decide I can hold it.

Peeta hasn't let go of my hand yet and he starts to swing our hands slightly as his thumb gently rubs up and down mine. If I'd have known any better, I'd think this is turning into a date with all this unexpected touching going on here. I'm not complaining though. This feels…nice.

"Well look what we have here!" The unmistakable high voice cuts through the air and I'm sure dogs everywhere are barking their heads off.

Well fuck me. Isn't this just my luck.

"Gale, Delly," Peeta greets the pair politely. "How's it going? How'd you like the movie?"

"Peeta, so good to see you!" she gushes. "Oh, and you too Katniss."

She doesn't even bother to look me in the eye. Her change in tone as she greets me is so blatantly obvious. I'm the last person in the world she expected to see today. I can't blame her though, the feeling is mutual.

When she sees that Peeta and I are holding hands the look on her face is priceless. I have to resist the urge to laugh out loud or roll my eyes. I don't say a word though. Peeta nudges my shoulder softly, indicating I should say something. All I can muster up is a curt nod to them both as I start to dig my right heel into the tacky purple carpet.

Really? Delly? He said he hated blondes. Son of a bitch.

Delly turns her attention back to Peeta as she continues, "The movie was _so_ amazing! I loved it, especially the part when…"

Considering that I feel asleep half way through the movie, I start to tune out Delly as she continues to gab and squeal about lord knows what. It's not like I could contribute anything worthwhile to the conversation anyways.

I notice that Gale has yet to say a word and is staring me down with an arrogant smirk on his face. I also can't help but do a once over of his tall, muscular frame. True to form, he's dressed in dark jeans, a plain white tee, and his black and red motorcycle jacket. He doesn't own a motorcycle. It's his M.O. The girls at university could never resist him and were always swooning over his dark features and grey eyes that in a certain light almost looked like molten silver. Shit. Snap out of it.

I tear my eyes away from his and quickly look back up to Peeta who's still engaging in small talk with Delly. I try to look anywhere else, at the floor, at the other people leaving the theater, at the oversized movie posters littering the hallway.

"Katniss?" Peeta squeezes my hand to get my attention.

"Huh? What was that?" I look at him and then back to Gale and Delly.

"Delly asked if you had a job lined up for the summer?"

Oh, I'm sure she did. I stare at her overly perky smile, but I see right through it. Why the fuck does she care?

"I, uh…yes, I have something lined up. Have an interview on Wednesday actually."

There, that answer should suffice for now. I can't help but glace back over to Gale. He's biting his bottom lip and slowly tracing it with his tongue. Fuck.

He's doing it on purpose. That was his signal for '_I'm really horny and I'm going to fuck you right now_'. He knows that although I have an indifferent look plastered across my face, it's just a mask. He's trying to make me uncomfortable, push my buttons, and he's a shit for successfully achieving it. The whole situation is making me feel extremely anxious and awkward. I feel like my worlds are colliding and it can't be a good thing. It also doesn't help that he's still staring at me with those eyes. Eyes that have seen me naked. Eyes that have seen me at my most raw and vulnerable state. I can feel the scowl that's forming and I'm pretty sure I'm squeezing the life out of Peeta's hand by now.

A devilish grin creeps across Gale's face because he knows he's getting to me. Trying to make me jealous. I've always been the jealous type. He used to use it to his advantage when he wanted to spice things up in the bedroom. He pulls Delly in closer to his side and begins to tap his fingers along her waist. Why the hell do I even care? Ugh. I've had enough though.

"Well, great seeing you two," I blurt out, interrupting their conversation. I think I hear Delly mumble something along the lines of 'how rude', but I couldn't give two shits. "Enjoy the rest of your night."

I pull Peeta with me as I scan for the nearest exit.

"Yeah well, enjoy the rest of your night!" Peeta calls back.

I spot an emergency exit a few feet in front of us as we weave through the crowd.

"What is he doing here?" I blurt out unintentionally.

"Who? Gale?"

"Yeah Gale, who else would I be talking about?" I reply gruffly.

"Oh, I was surprised he's back too. He showed up at Finnick's party a little while after you left. I though it was kinda strange that he was there but whatever. I guess he's still friends with Thresh and Finnick."

"Right. I'm sure he had other things on his agenda," I hiss as I push the handle of the emergency exit and I'm hit in the face with a cool burst of air.

We walk in silence and I've forgotten that I'm still holding onto his hand.

"Hey, are you OK?" He stops walking which forces me to turn and face him.

"Yeah. I'm fine," I say as I drop his hand and start to fish for my keys in my purse.

"You sure?" he questions again, his voice unsure but firm.

I stop looking for my keys and meet his gaze before answering, "Really. I'm fine." I force a smile for added reassurance but I'm not a hundred percent sure it's convincing.

"OK then. Well, I don't really have anywhere else to be for the rest of the evening, so would you be up for grabbing a bite to eat?"

I'm about to make up an excuse to get out of it so I can go home and shamelessly scream into my pillow all night, but my body betrays me as my stomach growls loudly as I open my mouth. I clutch my stomach out of habit and curse under my breath.

"I'll take that as a yes then," Peeta chuckles as he takes my hand again and leads me in the direction of the few restaurants situated outside the theater.

"Yeah, I guess so," I mumble back defeated. "But I'm paying this time!"

* * *

**Author's Note:** Hope you're all still enjoying this story! So Katniss has been visited by her first "ghost" from her past. With Gale now thrown into the mix...worlds are colliding! Unfortunately for Katniss, but fortunately for your reading pleasure, more "ghosts" are on their way. Happy New Year!

Follow me on tumblr if you ever want to chat about the story or just gush about Everlark fanfics, details are on my profile page. Thanks!


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** This fanfic is rated 'M' for language and sexual content. I do not own any of the characters of The Hunger Games.

* * *

**Chapter 10: Game of Firsts**

For dinner we both agree on an Irish style pub that opened a little over a month ago. The easy going atmosphere and cheerful Irish traditional music helps to calm my overly anxious nerves from our run in with Gale and Delly after the movie.

Once we're seated, I began to peruse the extensive menu but per usual, I am slightly overwhelmed by the number of choices available to me. My mouth is watering over the picture of the mini yorkshire puddings stuffed with braised short ribs but then there's the Guinness burger with blarney chips that is calling my name too. I peer over my menu to Peeta who looks like he's having as hard a time as I am trying to decide on something.

"It all looks so _tasty_, doesn't it?" he whines while ogling his menu.

"Yeah, but I think I've found my calling," I say, "I'm definitely going with the Guinness Burger." He nods as I see his eyes flickering back and forth across the menu again. "How about you?"

"I think I'm going to keep it traditional and go with the Shepherd's Pie," he answers, closing his menu.

I take a quick glance around the room to take in the décor of the restaurant and immediately decide that I like this place. The dark wood booths and stained glass fit in perfectly with the whole Irish pub theme; however, the insanely short kilts and tight black t-shirts of the waitresses leave little to the imagination.

Our waitress is a short blonde with a name tag that reads 'Cliona', although, I'm not completely convinced that's her real name, it's probably just a fake one to go along with the Irish theme. Regardless, I can't help but notice the lack of attention she gives to me while taking our orders. Can I blame her though? Compared to Peeta, I have as much charm as a slug.

After taking our food and drink orders, she turns on her heel and bounces away cheerfully, her kilt flapping dangerously along the line of complete exposure of her underwear. Ugh, it doesn't help that I kind of envy her ass.

We both sit silently while waiting for our drinks. I'm not sure if my freak out about Gale after the movie has left him questioning if I really want to be here. I do though. I want to be here. To try and put him at ease, I run through a bunch of potential conversation starters, but none of them are making the cut. Thankfully he's the first to break the silence.

"So this job interview on Wednesday, are you excited?"

"Well, it's not really a job interview." My voice is lacking excitement, so I guess that answers his question. "My father got me a place at the quarry as a summer student, so Wednesday is more of an informal meeting with my supervisor, I think."

"Well that's exciting, do you know what kind of work you'll be doing there?"

"No, not really," I sigh, "but it's with the environmental department so I'm assuming something, you know, environmental."

"Well it sounds interesting to me, you'll have to let me know how it goes then, OK?" he asks while playing with the pile of coasters on the table.

"Uh, sure," I reply hesitantly.

It's then that I realize that I don't actually have any way of contacting Peeta. I don't have his cell number or e-mail address or anything. I'm sure he's well aware of this, but I'll be damned if I'm the one asking for his number. We'll see if he makes the first move on that front.

"So…first date?"

"What?" I shriek in absolute shock, horror written all over my face.

Shit. Is it that obvious? What gave it away that he'd guess that fast? Am I really that terrible as a date? He chuckles softly.

"Sorry, I mean, _describe_ your first date," he clarifies.

I narrow my eyes at him suspiciously, but he just smiles back innocently. I'm a little unsure of how to proceed. Is this some kind of a game or something? Maybe. I open and close my mouth a few times trying to figure out how to answer him.

My confused expression elicits a smirk from him before he explains himself further, "I call it the 'Game of Firsts', kind of a different take on twenty questions to get a person to open up and learn more about them. Care to play?"

"Uh, do I have a choice?" I bury my head in my hands while trying to decide if I should humor him with the truth or just make shit up if we're going to play this game.

Fuck. I guess I am a bit of a closed book when it comes to people getting to know me. Not very many people ever just 'want to get to know me'. I try to think, what do I really know about Peeta anyway? What does he really know about me? It's not like we've ever had an in depth conversation before, which is kind of weird for two people who've spent what little time they have together with their lips locked, instead of engaging in insightful conversation. Well, now is a good a time as any to open up to him a bit, I guess. Then I can learn more about him afterwards. I'm curious enough.

I try to steady my voice before answering, "This actually, if you want to call it a date that is."

"What? Are you serious?" he replies with a look of disbelief.

"Seriously," I hiss through my teeth, slightly embarrassed by his tone of voice.

He's silent for a few seconds before responding, "Well, I'm flattered really and yes, I would definitely hope this is a date. I just never would have thought—"

"Next question," I interrupt, not wanting him to explore how pathetic it is that this is my first _real_ date…ever.

Peeta grins, taking my hint before continuing with his next question, "Fine then, first word. Not like 'mama' or 'dada' but first actual word."

I smile before answering him cheerfully, "Don't laugh, but it was 'pandada'."

Peeta furrows his eyebrows and smirks. "Um, I'm pretty sure that's not a word Katniss."

"Whatever, it was to me when I was two. I really had a thing for elephants when I was little and it was my favorite animal. I couldn't say 'elephant' so I just made up my own word for it."

"Cute," he chuckles. "And creative."

Cliona promptly returns with our drinks before he can get in another question. She carefully places Peeta's drink down in front of him, bending over a little to obviously to attract attention to her in-your-face cleavage. He thanks her for the drink while still looking at me. He doesn't even give her the slightest peek. She gives out a loud huff before practically throwing my drink down in front of me and stomping off like a frustrated two year old.

I laugh to myself at the hilarity of the whole situation and take a sip of my ice water. It does wonders for my parched mouth. I glance back up at Peeta who's still staring at me. It doesn't make me feel uncomfortable anymore. I actually quite like it. It's when he's looking at me like this that I find it hard to hold up the walls I've built up around me and the idea of opening up to him doesn't seem as terrifying as I originally thought.

"So, next question? Or are we done already?" I say sarcastically, wondering how random or silly his next question will be.

"Oh, we're just getting started," he laughs as he stretches his arms over his head, revealing the slightest line of skin above his leather belt.

I have to force myself to look away, but my God what a tease. I haven't see Peeta without a shirt on since high school. It's kind of hard not to notice all the guys during gym class when they're playing basketball, shirts versus skins. Even back then he had the body of a professional athlete…not that I studied it that much really. The mental image of a shirtless Peeta sends shivers down my spine causing me to cross my legs and slide my hands under my thighs, unsure of what to do with them.

"First kiss," he asks playfully.

"Oh god, how could I forget?" I snort. "Finnick, back in grade two. It was embarrassing and _awful_!" I laugh while replaying the whole ordeal in my head. "I can't remember who it was, but someone convinced him that girls tasted like sugar cubes or something. So he cornered me one day in the classroom and before I could run away he smooshed my cheeks together and planted a big wet one on my lips. It was so gross. He caught me totally off guard so I punched him in the stomach!" I bring my hands out from under the table and cover my eyes with my palms, shaking my head.

"I started seriously freaking out though," I continue, "he went up to the teacher after and I thought he was going to get me in trouble and that I'd get sent to the principles office and my parents would get called in all because stupid Finnick kissed me. Instead, he just pointed in my direction and asked the teacher 'Are you sure Katniss is a girl? I think you need to check because she tastes nothing like sugar cubes!' "

Peeta erupts in fit of laughter. I didn't think it was _that_ funny but I'm not going to complain, Peeta's laugh is undeniably the most amazing thing I've ever heard. He doesn't hold back and it just sounds so natural.

"You do realize…that I'm the one…who told him that?" he finally gets out between lingering laughs. "If I had known it would have lead to your first kiss then I would have kept my mouth shut!"

"Well you should have, thanks for ruining it for me." I let out a dramatic sigh to feign annoyance, but the tight smile that forms on my lips quickly gives way, and I can't help but laugh along with him.

After our laughter subsides, he looks down to his crossed hands sitting on the table in front of him. He clears his throat before continuing.

"First time," he says coolly, his eyes staring right into mine.

I furrow my eyebrows in confusion. First time for what? I'm about to ask for clarification when it dawns on me what he's talking about. Oh! Oh shit. I'm pretty sure I almost choke on the ice cube I've been absentmindedly chewing on. What the hell? How did this go from innocent first kisses to intimate bedroom details only four questions into this stupid game? Did I miss something?

"I, uh…well…" I can't think straight and I'm pretty sure my palms are starting to sweat. "Um, let's see..." I'm stalling. How much does he really want to know? Do I have to name names here? Does he want a run down of who, where, when, why? Shit. This was a bad idea. I look down at my lap as I take a deep breath, trying to think of a way to get myself out of this.

"Wait, you're not a…a virgin are you?" he asks quietly, quickly looking around to make sure no one heard him. "Not that it's a big deal or anything, I just…well…shit…" he trails off, obviously embarrassed that he even posed the question.

"What? No!" I say a little too loudly. My eyes are wide and filled with panic. "I mean, no, I've done it tons of times…shit…I mean, no, I'm not a nympho or anything…but it's not like I'm inexperienced either…shit, this isn't coming out right at all…"

I burry my face in my hands again to hide the redness of my burning cheeks. Why is this happening to me? This is only our first date and we're already having this conversation? Oh, and I'm already making an ass of myself.

I wasn't expecting to tread these waters so soon…and so bluntly. I'd be lying though if I said I wasn't a teensy bit curious about Peeta's sexual history. A guy like him? I mean, there's no way he's still walking around with his v-card in his pocket. I need to clear this up.

"I mean, yeah, I've been with a few guys…so I'm not a virgin…" I trail off hoping he'll overlook my vagueness and ask me his next question.

"A few meaning?" he asks with curious eyes. "That is, if you don't mind me asking of course."

Wow, well that was bold. As if his last words would make it any easier to answer too. I kind of do mind actually. Divulging that kind of information may not be the best idea right now, hell, I don't even talk about this shit with Johanna. What good could come of it?

The heavens are smiling down at me at that moment as Cliona saunters back with our food. This time she carefully places my plate down first in front of me and then Peeta's. This time though, she doesn't even look in his direction before leaving. Well, at least she can take a hint.

"Wow that was fast, I'm starving," I say a little too enthusiastically, trying to change the subject before taking a huge bite out of my burger. I only hope he can take a hint too.

"Sorry, that was rude…forget that I even asked." He looks back to his plate and begins stabbing at his pile of mashed potatoes.

I can tell by his eyes that he's genuinely sorry for making me feel uncomfortable. Neither of us says a word though. We just eat our food silently. The light scrapes of his knife and fork and my chewing are the only noises to be heard. The awkward silence is starting to bug me even more than his initial question, and I can't take it anymore.

"Three," I blurt out before covering my mouth with my hand. Fuck! What am I doing? Idiot!

"Oh," he says casually, pausing with a forkful of potatoes hovering in front of his mouth, "and do you still keep in touch with any of your ex-boyfriends?"

I watch as his mouth opens and closes around the fork, sliding it out slowly. God his lips are so perfect. If we weren't in this restaurant right now having this damned conversation I'd be hard pressed to not jump him already. What did he just ask me? Oh yeah, my sex life. Great.

"Uh no, not really," I snort while shaking my head nervously. Who said I was in a relationship with all of them? Maybe he doesn't need to know that. One was only a one time thing anyway. Whatever, it'll be easier if they are all just ex-boyfriends. "I've never been the type to stay friends with an ex."

"I see, so I don't have to worry about any crazies showing up," he jokes.

"Is that all you wanted to know?" I laugh. "You know, you could have just asked me that up front instead of embarrassing the hell out of me."

"But it was so much fun watching you squirm," he jokes. "Good to know though, so no crazy ex-boyfriends. Perfect."

I'm not sure if now is a good time to mention Gale. Maybe not. We'll just have to save that for our second date.

We both turn back to our meals and when I finish off the last bite of my burger, I stare at him as he sops up the left over gravy on his plate with a dinner roll. He doesn't seem to notice me so I start drumming my fingers impatiently on the wooden surface of the table.

"Yes?" he asks with a coy smile before taking another sip from his drink.

"Uh, your turn? Spit it out, how many?"

He scrunches up his lips as if he's doing a mental count. His silence is killing me.

"That many huh," I joke half heartedly, somewhat worried that I won't like his answer.

"Ha, yeah right, I'm just messing with you. One, just one."

"One?" I gasp is disbelief. "Really?"

"Yeah, we only dated for a few months though. You sound surprised, not what you were expecting?"

"Uh no, not really I guess. Not a bad thing of course. Seriously though, is that including relationships, one night stands, anything else like that?"

"What else is there?" He looks at me curiously waiting for me to explain.

I don't respond though because I don't even really know what else there is, so I shrug my shoulders and take another sip of my water.

"But yeah, only one," he continues. "I've never had a one night stand or 'anything else like that' as you put it," he says sarcastically while air quoting my words.

I'm not sure why I find it so hard to believe, but I guess that I should be happy right? At least his answer wasn't twenty. I don't know though, it's not like that kind of information should really change anything anyway. Only one. Huh. Curiosity of this one lucky but obviously stupid girl is starting to eat at me. Who in there right mind would let a guy like Peeta go? I have my suspicions but I'll need him to confirm them first.

I bite back my nerves and just come right out with it, "So this one…anyone I know?"

"Wow, your turn to get straight to the point," he laughs nervously. He tilts his head back to drain the rest of his drink before continuing, "To answer you question, no one you'd know, just a girl back at school."

"Oh," I whisper. Huh, that's not the answer I was expecting. I'm staring off into space with furrowed eyebrows when he audibly clears his throat.

"Katniss, by the look on your face that obviously wasn't what you were expecting to hear. I'm curious. Who did you think it was?"

I hide my face in my hands again for the hundredth time tonight, trying to decide if I should just stop talking all together or just change the subject. I peek out between my fingertips and he's still staring at me with raised eyebrows. Ugh, I told myself I'd be honest with him. If we're going to give this a chance I need to be honest.

"Delly," I say through gritted teeth while still peering through my fingers to see his reaction.

He stares back at me blankly for a second before frowning and letting out a loud sigh. "You really thought…you thought Delly and I dated?"

"Well no, not dated, just hooked up I mean," I say, my hands finally falling from my face to rest in my lap.

"Hold on a sec, you really thought we slept together?" he asks exasperated. "Why would you think that? Did someone tell you that?" He rubs his face in his hands, clearly frustrated.

"No one had to tell me anything!" I reply, my voice a little too whiney for my liking. "Remember the night of Finnick's graduation party?"

"Yeah, of course, the night you avoided me like the plague," he mumbles, motioning for me to continue.

"Well, every time I saw you that night, the two of you were hanging off each other and I distinctly remember seeing you two sneaking off to the spare bedroom—"

"Stop right there Katniss, just stop," he interrupts. "First off, I wasn't hanging off anyone that night. Delly was the one following me. Hell, every time I turned around she would pop out of no where and try to jump me. All I wanted to do was find _you_, you Katniss, and no one else. I had to fix what happened. I didn't want us to leave things the way we did."

His words and the images from my memory are not lining up at all, but maybe I was mistaken? I _was_ really drunk that night, so maybe I can't rely to heavily on my drunken memories too much. It's not like I confirmed it with anyone afterwards either, I just went with what I thought I saw. Oh and left running away like a coward. Whatever, it's still blatantly obvious that Delly still has feelings for Peeta, whether they're sincere or born from pure lust.

"Wait a minute," he rests his hands on the table in front of him, "so is that why you were avoiding me then? You thought I was _already_ with Delly?"

"Uh, yeah? What was I supposed to think?"

"But…" he hardens his brow as he trails off. "I thought…I thought you knew how I felt about you. Didn't you? All during senior year, you never once noticed?"

What the hell is he talking about? I'm pretty sure I spent my whole senior year admiring Peeta from afar. We only really crossed paths at social gatherings because he started hanging out with Finnick that year. It was nothing out of the ordinary and sure, maybe I noticed him smiling at me a few more times than usual, but that's what you did when your social circles began to overlap.

"I even _kissed_ you Katniss!" he says, his voice beginning to strain. "I kissed you out in public for everyone to see. Everyone including Delly. How could you not think I had feelings for you? Didn't that kiss mean anything to you?"

How was I supposed to fucking know? What is going on here? I don't need to be reminded about that kiss again. It _did_ mean something to me. It still _does_ mean something to me. I can feel my blood pressure start to rise as the tension between us is growing.

"Well thanks, I'm well aware you kissed me Peeta," I snap, my voice thick with sarcasm. "And yeah, of course it meant something to me!" I see his face soften slightly at my confession but I'm not done talking. "It meant something for all of thirty seconds until your mother came running at me hurling insults left, right, and center! What was I supposed to think after that? She pretty much tore me a new one out for everyone to see! Have you forgotten? She accused me of getting in the way of your future, your future with _Delly_!"

I'm breathing heavily now and beyond frustrated with myself for letting him affect me this way. I'm frustrated for letting things get this out of hand. I look around quickly to make sure no one is staring at us due to my sudden outburst. Thankfully the music in here is loud enough that no one is the wiser. Why is this still such a big deal for me? Why am I still carrying this around? FUCK!

Peeta is staring at me like I have two heads, but he says nothing. He either knows me well enough not to interrupt or he has no idea what to say. I have to take a deep breath to clam myself because my hands are starting to shake out of frustration. I need to be rational, that was the past and it shouldn't matter anymore. He already apologized for all of it, and I'm the one who said I wanted to start over. I just need to let it go already, but not before I clear my conscience.

"Listen, I'm sorry," I say calmly as possible. "I know we already talked about this and you apologized already but I need to get this off my chest. I don't know, maybe it will help me get past this since it obviously is still affecting me." I look to Peeta and see that he's still looking at me with concerned but understanding eyes. He nods slightly for me to continue.

"If you want me to be completely honest here, I thought you were just using me to piss off your mother or something. Honestly Peeta, what else was I supposed to think? We were only acquaintances growing up and you barely spoke two words to me the whole time. Then the second we graduate you kiss me? You caught me off guard and then the whole misunderstanding with Delly at Finnick's after, well that was pretty much the last straw for me and that's why—"

I'm startled when Peeta reaches across the table to take one of my hands in his. I let him. I close my eyes and take another needed breath. I'm tired. I'm tired of putting up a fight. I don't even know what I'm fighting against. I'm done fighting with myself. I open my eyes and find him looking down at our intertwined fingers. I see the corners of his mouth rise ever so slightly.

"And that's why you left," he finishes.

"Yeah," I confirm with a ragged breathe. I look up to his face again.

"Well now I know." He looks up from our hands back into my eyes. "And now we can move on. Right?"

I feel eerily calm now. The weight I've been carrying around with me for so long from that day, it's now been lifted. Knowing what I know now, I can't help but smile back at Peeta.

"Yes, now we can move on."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Hello! Hope you enjoyed that chapter; it builds up perfectly to something really special in the next chapter. The forecast for the next chapter by the way is sunny with lots of fluff…you've been warned! Thank you so much for all the follows and favorites and if you could leave a review that would be amazing!

Follow me on tumblr if you feel inclined: pookieh . tumblr . com (remove spaces of course) Thanks!


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** This fanfic is rated 'M' for language and sexual content. I do not own any of the characters of The Hunger Games.

* * *

**Chapter 11: Confessions**

After finally agreeing to let me pay for dinner, Peeta takes my hand again as we leave the restaurant and walk back to my car. I drop his hand and start to fish around in my purse for my keys before letting out a frustrated sigh. I'm not sure when my purse turned into Mary Poppin's bottomless bag, but this is just ridiculous. Metal note, I really need to get a lanyard or something for these keys, that or a smaller purse.

"So, I had a really nice time tonight," Peeta says shyly while my face is still buried in my purse.

"Uh huh…" I mumble, not really paying attention to what he's saying.

"The sun is only starting to set, so it can't be later than seven I think…"

"Yup…" I mumble again. I'm considering dumping the contents of my purse all over the sidewalk at this point.

"Katniss?"

"Yeah…"

"Katniss!"

"Huh? What?" I say, finally making eye contact with Peeta who's running his hand through his messy hair.

"Do you really want to go home already?" he asks.

"Uh, no…not really," I stammer, "I just thought maybe you were ready to get going already."

Peeta laughs and shakes his head at me. Did I say something funny?

"No, my evening is _wide_ open Katniss," he says with a smirk. "So, since I have nothing else to do and you have nothing else to do, what would you like to do?"

Great, leave it to me to make all the decisions. I take a quick glance around the complex. Since I've only been here once since it opened, I haven't the slightest idea of what else is in here. It's mostly just restaurants and a few retail stores, but I notice a green patch with trees in the middle of the large parking lot, it must be a park or something.

"How about over there?" I ask, biting my lower lip and pointing to the park.

"Sure, it's too nice out to be inside, let's go then," he grins. I nod in response as he links his fingers through mine again and leads the way.

When we get closer to the park, I see that there's a small swing set and my eyes light up as I drop Peeta's hand almost sprint to one of swings. I can hear Peeta chuckling behind me and when he reaches me he takes the rungs of the swing I'm next to. He raises his eyebrows suggestively, silently asking me to take a seat. I put my purse down in the sand and check the swing seat first to makes sure I don't ruin my sweater with gum or bird crap. That's the last thing I need right now. The coast is clear so I plop down onto the seat and grab the rungs as Peeta gives me a gentle push forward. I can't hold back the giggle that escapes my mouth.

For a second I think I'm acting a little too excited to be on a swing at my age, but whatever, I haven't been on one in a long time and its fun! It reminds me of when I was little and we used to have "swing-offs" at the playground at school. Two people would start swinging as high as they could and then jump off at the right moment and see who could jump the furthest. I think I was the only girl who actually played until I sprained my ankle one time when I landed the wrong way in the sand. Finnick never let me live it down after that since I was the only one who could ever beat him.

"So, first crush?" Peeta questions, bringing me back to the present.

Ugh, are we still playing this game? I roll my eyes but realize after that he can't see me so the effect is lost. Fine, I'll play. "Um…I don't know…are we talking real life or celebrity?"

"Both."

"OK then, but you can't laugh," I say, turning my head back so he can hear me better. "My first celebrity crush was the kid who played human Casper in the movie, you know, the one with Christina Ricci and Bill Pullman?"

"_That_ guy?" Peeta laughs while giving me another gentle push. "Sorry, I wasn't supposed to laugh, was I," he says, but I can still hear him chuckling behind me. "So, you have a thing for blondes then, huh?" he teases, which makes me blush as a shy smile creeps across my face.

"Yeah, I guess…as for my real life first crush…that's a secret. You'll have to earn that one," I tease back. It seems like he's the one who's been asking most of the questions so far, so I think it's my turn. "So, how about you? First crush?"

He grabs hold of the swing and brings me to a stop. I don't turn around because I'm still startled by the sudden stop, but I can feel his chest push up against my back, his lips almost touching my right earlobe.

"I've had a crush on you since the first moment I laid eyes on you," he whispers. I try to turn my head around to face him but he leans in further to wrap his arms around my waist, resting his head on my shoulder. "Bet you had no idea, did you."

I shake my head. Uh, that's a big nope. The way his arms are wrapped around my waist and the feel of his chest against my back…it's doing things to me. Things that shouldn't be happening in a park out in public. I try to get my libido in check and focus on his words. Hmmm…when would he first have laid eyes on me? When did I meet Peeta anyway? We've all pretty much been in the same class since kindergarten, so yeah, that would probably be the first time any of us met. Oh God. That means he's liked me since kindergarten? Whoa. No way.

Peeta laughs to himself and as he exhales it tickles my ear. "It was the first day of kindergarten, during recess. I remember seeing you across the playground playing in the sand with Delly and Annie. Your hair was shorter then but you still were able to wear it in two braids. You were wearing a little red dress."

I cringe at the memory of that little red dress. My mother made me wear it because not only was it my first day of school but it was also picture day. It was a hideous red and white checkered dress that was a hand me down from who knows where. She even made me wear bright red shoes to match…I hated that dress.

"I actually don't remember much from kindergarten…kind of a long time ago you know," I joke. "How do you even remember stuff like that?"

"I remember everything about you," he says, placing a soft kiss behind my ear. "Maybe you would too if you had paid better attention."

I turn my head to face him and frown. "Maybe I was too busy paying attention to the teacher in class instead of the opposite sex."

He just shrugs before continuing, "Anyway, I came home from school that day and told my Dad that I was going to marry you some day. I always admired you from afar over the years but I kept an eye out for you everywhere I went."

I laugh at the thought of a young Peeta hiding behind the playground equipment trying to spy on me.

As if he knows what I'm thinking he laughs, "I know, stalk much?"

His breath tickles my ear again as he laughs and yet again I try to focus on his words instead of the tingling feeling that's starting to take over my body. It both tickles and torments me all at the same time. Wait. Did he just say he wanted to marry me when he was five years old?

I turn my head slightly to catch a glimpse at his face out of the corner of my eye. I see that sexy half grin stretched across his face, he's either nervous or really excited right now. I don't say anything though. What do you really say to that? I just continue to stare out in front of me, drawing circles in the sand with my boot.

"You were so intimidating," he continues, "the way you carried yourself with your quiet composure. You rarely smiled unless you were with Annie or Prim. As we got older I just got more frustrated with myself because I wanted to talk to you so badly, but you were always surrounded by other guys who were falling over themselves to get your attention. I mean, how could I have stood a chance? Finnick was Mr. Greek God, Cato was the size of a professional quarterback by like seventh grade, and Marvel was the next Adam Sandler? Why would you even know I existed?"

Seriously? Did he just say I was _intimidating_? And _quiet composure_? Really? Who uses words like that? And Cato? Yeah, we don't even need to go there.

I was the shyest kid in my class, I only spoke to my handful of friends, and I definitely don't remember guys falling over themselves for me. I will admit, I always found guys more fun to hang out with but that's because I was a tom boy. Fashion, makeup, and gossip just weren't my thing. I still remember when I was little, I asked my father who was a volunteer Boy Scout Master at the time if I could join the Boy Scouts because the things they learned were way cooler and way more fun than what the girls did. Camping, wood working, nature hikes, baseball…that was my kind of thing…not earning badges for sewing, cleaning, and cooking.

The sound of him clearing his throat snaps me out of my thoughts and I try to turn to look over at him again. He lifts his head off my shoulder and looks down at me as if he's waiting for me to answer his question.

"What?" I reply innocently. "I don't remember guys paying attention to me like that. Are you sure you're talking about me and not someone else? If any guy paid any attention to me, it's because I was good at sports, guys just wanted me on their team."

Didn't they? I wasn't anything special. The fact that I was faster and more athletically inclined than ninety-five percent of the boys in my class made me think they hated me, actually. What boy wanted to accept that a skinny little girl like me could beat him at almost any sport?

"You never saw it, did you?" His mouth turns to a semi frown as he shakes his head. "The effect you had on people," he says before placing a soft kiss on my temple, taking me by surprise. "The effect you _still_ have on people." His leans in a bit closer this time and places another soft kiss on my neck. I shudder and try to keep myself together.

My mind and my body are having an internal struggle for my attention right now. The effect I have on people? My God, the effect this guy has on my body just from a kiss on my neck is absolutely ridiculous.

He pulls away slightly, causing me to groan in frustration.

"You were nothing like the other girls at school," he says softly as he takes a step back, pulling me with him before releasing me and the swing again. "I made it my personal mission to figure you out and understand what was going on in that pretty head of yours," he declares.

I turn my gaze to the night sky and notice that the stars are starting to come out. A cool breeze whips through my hair and it's a refreshing relief to my flushed face. All this talk about me and the _effect_ I had on people, especially him, is starting to weird me out. I don't think I'll ever get comfortable talking about guys and relationships or feelings.

"Every time I built up the nerve to talk to you or try to be your friend," he continues, "something always got in the way. Like in third grade for instance, the day before Valentine's Day. I took my allowance that I had been saving up for over three months, from washing my Dad's car and cleaning up at the bakery, and bought a dozen red roses. I spent all night trying to decide how to confess my feelings to the girl of my dreams, in few enough words to fit on the small card that came with the flowers that is," he laughs, halting my swinging again.

He walks around to stand in front of me and looks down at me. He's silent as he stares deeply into my eyes. The usual brightness of his eyes seems to have disappeared and they now look full of sadness or disappointment, I'm unsure though. I part my lips to speak because I know where this is going, but he takes my chin in his palm and ghosts his thumb across my lips, silencing me.

"The next morning I came to school early and placed the bouquet of roses on your desk. I couldn't wait to see you at recess, to see you smile at me and finally notice me." He looks down to the ground and puts his hands in his pockets before looking back up at me through his eyelashes. "But you never showed up. At first I thought maybe you didn't get the card or that there was some sort of mix up, but then I realized something. Maybe there was someone else, and I had just made the biggest fool of myself. I thought, of course, why would she like someone like me? And that's when my heart broke for the first time."

Oh shit. I'm such a bitch, even back in third grade I was a bitch. I had no idea that he even remembered that, but of course he would if I was his first crush. I can't believe I broke his heart. And for the first time? How many times has this guy had his heart broken? I hope to God I'm not responsible for doing it more than once. Oh wait, maybe I did. Shit. I tighten my lips into a thin frown and internally scold myself while replaying the memory in my head over again.

* * *

We were in separate classes back then. I was in Ms. Trinket's class and he was in Mr. Flickerman's class across the hall. I came in early that morning to drop off the box of valentines that Prim and I had made the night before. My mother had insisted that I make one for everyone in the class, even ones for Glimmer and Clove who had spent most of the year teasing me for being a tom boy.

I remember the absolute horror that filled my face when I spotted the huge bouquet of roses sitting on my desk. I quickly snatched up the little card taped to the clear plastic wrap and read the words written in crooked loopy hand writing:

"_To Katniss, Please be my valentine. I have always loved you and always will. Please meet me by the oak tree at recess. - Peeta"_

I was completely mortified and quickly looked around the classroom to make sure that no one else was around. I had to reread the card at least three times to make sure I was reading it correctly and that I wasn't imagining the whole ordeal. There was only one Peeta in our school, so I knew exactly who they were from. That's when Finnick walked in and before I could gasp a breath, he snatched the card right out of my hands and began reading it aloud. A scowl immediately formed on my face as he raised his eyebrows at me with a giant smirk.

"If you say a single word to anyone about this Finnick Odair, I will tell _everyone_ that you have a secret crush on Annie!" I threatened. The smirk on his face fell in a heartbeat and then he looked back at me confused.

"How did you know?" he questioned suspiciously. "Who told you? I mean, what are you talking about?" He tried to regain his smooth composure but faltered a bit as he stammered, "You don't know what you're talking about, and I don't even like Annie."

"Really?" I snapped as I placed my hands on my hips with as much sass possible. "You're such an idiot Finnick, Annie is one of my best friends. You've wanted to kiss Annie on the lips ever since kindergarten! You'd have to be blind not to see the goo-goo eyes you get every time you see her. So you better help me do something about _this_ before someone else comes in and sees!"

Panic was starting to settle in as I racked my brain on how to fix this. If anyone else was to see the flowers I would die of embarrassment. I wouldn't be able to handle the constant teasing and…Peeta. How would I be able to face Peeta?

Suddenly an idea came to me. I quickly grab a piece of paper from my desk and a pen. I told Finnick to copy out the exact wording on the card but told him to address it to the first name I saw on the desk across from mine…Delly Cartwright.

Perfect, I thought. She'll definitely appreciate the roses more than me, heck, she'll love them! Yes, Delly was way more girly than me and a much better for Peeta to like than me. Her blonde hair and blue eyes almost matched his exactly. Although, his eyes were bluer and brighter, like nothing I'd ever seen before. I mean, not that I had really looked at him that way before.

I rushed to Ms. Trinket's desk and grabbed the tape dispenser before turning to Finnick, "Quickly! Tape it to the flowers and move them over to Delly's desk!"

Not even a minute later we heard footsteps in the hallway. I grabbed my box of valentines and continued to pass them out as Finnick tried to look busy by feeding the fish in the classroom fish tank.

Ms. Trinket walked through the door with non other than Delly, of course, and Annie. From the corner of my eye, I saw Finnick's eyes light up when he saw Annie, but then he quickly looked down and over to me, as if to see if he'd been caught.

"It's going to be a big, big, big day today girls!" Ms. Trinket chirped happily. "It's Valentine's Day, so you know what that means, love is in the air! OH!" she gasped at the sight of the roses. "It looks like someone has a secret admirer!"

Delly quickly ran over to her desk and read the note out loud for both Annie and Ms. Trinket to hear. Her eyes almost bulged out of her head when she read whose name was signed at the bottom. Before I knew it, she was jumping up and down and squealing so load I had to cover my ears. I thought to myself, yes, that was definitely a good decision, look how happy she is. I mumbled a quick "excuse us" under my breath and quickly ran out of the room pulling Finnick with me by the arm.

Later at recess, I didn't meet Peeta by the oak tree. I watched from the classroom window as Delly primped herself before sauntering over to Peeta who was nervously waiting by the big oak tree. I saw his face scrunch up in annoyance and confusion as Delly approached him. A few moments later, I saw Delly throw her arms up in the air and it looked like she was yelling. Then she turned on her heel, and ran back inside the building with a look of pain and embarrassment written all over her face.

I was such a coward. I hid in the girls bathroom for the rest of recess, locked away in one of the stalls. Annie came in at one point and asked if I was feeling alright and if she needed to go get Ms. Trinket. I lied and told her I felt a little sick but that I'd be fine. Before she left though, she said I missed a huge scene outside between Peeta Mellark and Delly Cartwright, something about the roses and Peeta saying they weren't meant for her.

I released a loud huff and felt a headache coming on. Truth was, I was furious. Furious with Peeta Mellark. Furious that of all people, he had to be the one to have the nerve to try and embarrass me in front of everyone. What had I done to him? Was it some kind of a joke? I made my third grade self a promise that from that day forward I would never look or speak to Peeta Mellark…ever.

* * *

I let out a nervous laugh knowing full well that I need to confess the truth from that day. I take a deep breath to gather my nerves. "Yeah, about that…um, I'm kinda to blame for what happened with Delly that day."

He quickly lifts his head to look up at me straight on, confusion written all over his face. "What?" He's staring at me carefully, waiting for me to go on.

I take a deep breath again and proceed, "I got the card…and the roses. I knew they were for me but I was so scared and embarrassed by the gesture that I didn't know what to do. Finnick helped me address the card to Delly instead."

Peeta is still staring at me in disbelief. I don't know if he's going to get up and leave or yell at me or what. I apparently broke this guy's heart at the tender age of, like what, eight? I start to fidget with my hands in my lap, not knowing what else to do. I wish he'd just say something already. Anything. Say something!

He laughs. What? Um, not the reaction I was expecting.

"Finnick…that little fucker," he says as he shakes his head. "I knew he liked you back then!"

"Wait, what?" I shout. "You thought he helped me because he liked me? No…no way…Finnick has always liked Annie. He only helped me because I pretty much blackmailed him into it. He's never liked me, oh God, ugh! He's like a brother to me!"

"Well, at least that explains why Delly ran away steaming mad and almost in tears. I told her I was waiting for someone and politely asked her to leave."

He's still laughing to himself until he looks back at me. His face softens when our eyes meet and his eyes turn serious.

"I never meant to embarrass you, Katniss," he confesses. "Maybe my choice of words was a little too over whelming for a third grader, but honestly, how did you not know that I had a serious crush on you all through school? Hell, I had to kick myself every time I caught myself staring at you because I didn't want you to think I was some creepy guy."

The intensity of his stare is starting to overwhelm me, so I turn my head and look up at the sky again. There are no clouds out tonight and there's almost a full moon. I can't help but notice how the moonlight illuminates his blonde hair and I also can't help but be drawn back to his blue eyes again. He looks angelic.

How could anyone ever think him to be _creepy_? I'm pretty sure everyone liked Peeta. I search my mind for any memories I might have of him. I frown when I realize that I actually have no other memories of him from elementary school, besides the whole rose incident.

Most of the memories I have of Peeta are from middle school. That's when…well, when I started to really notice guys. When I started to really take note of his physique in particular. Any breathing female within a hundred mile radius would have had to be blind to not have noticed him, especially in gym class. His arms filled out his typical band t-shirts quite nicely and he was surprising light on his feet despite his muscular build.

Why would I remember that is such detail? Huh, maybe I was paying more attention to him than I thought. It's not like I had a crush on him or anything back then, I just noticed him I guess. Johanna was always pointing him out and saying how she'd like to '_hook up with that shit_' and that she'd happily trade places with whatever girl he was currently '_banging'_. I would always roll my eyes at her and try to change the subject to something more interesting than Peeta Mellark.

I finally decide to break my silence. "I'm pretty sure no one thought you were creepy, Peeta. If I remember correctly, every girl in high school was in love with you. You were the golden boy."

"Well, not every girl." He casts his gaze to the ground again and has a slightly wounded look on his face. I notice he's clenching his jaw again.

Why does he always have a way of making me feel guilty? Well, maybe I should be feeling guilty for this one. At least I came clean about it. I still can't understand why a guy like him would have wanted to give a girl like me the time of day back then. Even after this confession of his childhood love for me, I still can't bring myself to let the words sink in. But I also can't stand the look of the wounded Peeta standing in front of me, especially because I'm the one responsible. Well, my past self that is. My present self is now dying to get my hands on him.

I pull myself off the swing and take a step forward so we're almost nose to nose. Our eyes meet and I watch him as he sucks in his lips to form a thin line. I thread my hands through his arms in search of his back pockets. Once I've found them, I dig my hands into them and pull his hips to mine. I can feel the start of something going on down there and try to hide the smile that wants to take over my face. He looks so amazing and I still can't believe that he's here, with me, standing nose to nose. I lightly rub my nose against his, Eskimo style. I see a sexy smile finally flash across his face before I open my mouth to speak.

"Well, I'm here now."

* * *

**Author's Note:** So, this was the chapter that started it all…and I'm not just talking about Peeta's feelings for Katniss, but this was actually the first chapter of this story that I wrote. What happened in third grade between Katniss and Peeta actually happened to me…ahhhh…I know, I'm terrible! But I actually ended up dating the guy later on in high school and it lasted over four years but no, I did not end up marrying him. Anyway, enough about me, how'd you like this chapter? A little fluffy, I know, but don't worry, that "M" rating is going to come into effect again soon…I promise!

Thanks again to all the follows, favorites, and reviews! Please keep them coming!

Feel free to ask me anything you want over on Tumblr, details are on my profile page! Oh, and I'm also on AO3 now...finally...just in case my story disappears for some reason.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** This fanfic is rated 'M' for language and sexual content. I do not own any of the characters of The Hunger Games.

* * *

**Chapter 12: Much to be Desired**

I try to ignore the check engine light on my dash as I put my car in park. I peer through my windshield at the old farmhouse sitting in front of me.

"This is _it_?" I question out loud to myself.

Must be. There aren't any other buildings in sight. Although my father has worked at the quarry since before I was born, I've never actually been here or seen where he works. My mother never allowed me to tag along on 'Bring your Kid to Work Day'. It was always the usual 'it's too dangerous, what if she gets hurt'. Even though I'm twenty-one, my mother still gave my father grief when he finally informed her that he got me a job here for the summer. I wonder if she'll ever stop treating me like a little kid.

I shut off the engine and flip down my visor to make sure my hair still looks alright. I glance over at the clock. 1:50. Good, I'm early. Ok, I just need to get through this half hour interview and then I'm home free. I grab my purse and switch my phone to silent before stepping out onto the dirt parking lot.

Maybe I'm overdressed. Prim insisted I wear my black dress pants with her turquoise v-neck sweater and black ballet flats since I never made it to the mall with Madge as I had hoped. I have to admit though, under normal circumstances this would be quite acceptable office wear, but looking at my surroundings again and at the farmhouse, I mean main office, I'm starting to think this was a bad idea. Shit. I should have asked my father about the dress code before he left this morning.

The parking lot is filled mostly with white pickup trucks with _Panem Aggregates_ stenciled across the doors. As I make my way to the entrance of the main office, I try to avoid the rain filled potholes that are everywhere without getting mud on my shoes. It's proving to be a difficult task because its clay and it's sticking to everything.

Upon closer inspection, the old two storey farmhouse looks like it's been renovated to accommodate what appear to be offices on the top floor. I can hear the window air conditioner unit buzzing away overhead and notice it's visibly shaking. Uh, isn't that a safety hazard? What if that fucking thing falls on someone? Like me.

I wipe off as much mud from my shoes as I can on the worn entry mat. It says 'Rock On' in black letters. Cute. Maybe these people won't be as tight assed as I feared. I open the heavy front door and I'm hit in the face with the smell of old wood and dust.

I take a quick glance around and there's a middle aged woman with a pixie cut and glasses typing away on her computer in a room to my right labeled 'reception'. Well, she looks somewhat pleasant. She looks up at me when the door shuts and greets me with a smile and waves me into the room.

"Hello dear, what can I help you with?"

I quickly scan her desk for a name plate. There's one tucked in at the side next to massive piles of paperwork. Maysilee Donner. I take another quick peek at her hands and there are also no rings on her fingers.

"Hello Ms. Donner, I'm Katniss Everdeen and I'm here for an interview with Mr. Abernathy."

"You can call me Maysilee, my dear," she replies happily. "No one around here every calls me Ms. Donner." Her smile is contagious and I find myself smiling back at her despite my nerves. "Oh, and Haymitch is still out at the pump house right now but he should be back in a few minutes. You can wait for him in his office. Just up the stairs and it's the first one to your right," she instructs as she points upstairs. "Oh, and can you please sign in on the sign in sheet? It's on the bookcase in the hallway, thanks!"

I nod in understanding before leaving what I think would have been the living room if this had still been an actual house. I find the bookcase and sign in with my name, arrival time, phone number, and who I'm here to see. The staircase squeaks and creaks as I gingerly ascend the steps. When I reach the top floor there's a small washroom at the top of the stairs and five other smaller rooms which at first glance all appear to be offices, as I had guessed.

The first door to my right is no bigger than Prim's bedroom. There's an old wooden desk with an ancient desktop computer and two chairs in front of it that look like they came out of an elementary school class room. Those must be for guests or clients I guess. Although, based on the bland décor and slightly musky smell emanating from the room, I don't think Haymitch entertains many clients.

With a louder than expected sigh, I plop down on one of the guest chairs and look around for a clock. 2:05. He's late. I can't help but snoop around at my hopefully future boss' office.

There aren't any framed pictures of a would-be-Mrs. Abernathy or any Abernathy offspring. Loose papers are scattered across his desk in random piles in what some people might refer to as organized chaos. Something shiny peaking out from underneath one of the piles catches my eye. I lean forward in my seat a bit to get a better view and from the shape I think it looks like a flask. Really? This guy drinks on the job? Great.

I hear heavy footsteps coming up the creaky stairs and quickly sit back in my seat and fold my hands over my lap nervously.

"So, you're my two o'clock, huh."

A middle aged, scruffy looking man collapses into the swivel chair behind the desk. He looks almost exactly as I pictured, except he has grey eyes, kind of like mine which surprises me. I have to try extra hard to not let my disappointment show on my face when he belches and throws his white hard hat behind him which falls haphazardly to the ground.

He takes the manila file folder sitting in front of him and flips through it, his dusty hands leaving fingerprints all over the pages. At one point he licks his thumb to flip through what I think is my resume, but immediately sends spit hurling to the ground beside him.

Seriously? Did this guy really just spit on the office floor?

As if reading my mind, he shrugs and mumbles, "Cleaning staff will get it."

I'm not sure if it's in my best interest to comment or just keep my mouth shut. I settle for the latter and continue to stare at my lap, waiting for him to address me.

"So…," he lets out in one long breath, "Everdeen's daughter, huh."

"Yes, I'm Katniss, nice to meet you Mr. Abernathy."

"How old do I look to you?" he scoffs.

I stare back with my mouth hanging wide open, unsure of how to answer or if I should even attempt to answer him.

He lets out a muffled laugh before continuing, "Just call me Haymitch, Mr. Abernathy is my father."

"Uh, OK then, Haymitch it is," I say as comfortably as possible.

"Since we both know you're already a shoo-in and this whole interview is just a formality, let's just get to the important shit. You'll be reporting to me and me only for the summer. If any of these other assholes tries to boss you around to get you to work on their projects, just give 'em the finger and tell them to come talk to me. Got it?"

I've never heard so much swearing during an interview before in my life. There isn't supposed to be _any_ swearing during an interview! I nod back quickly to indicate my understanding but my wide eyes and pursed lips are a dead give away to the confusion and uneasiness I actually feel.

"Ok…got it," I try to answer confidently. "So what kind of work will I be doing? I mean, like office work?"

"Oh no sweetheart, we'll be outside most days. Mostly out on the trails looking after the wells and streams that run through quarry property. I sure hope you're built for the outdoors." He does a quick once over of me as he juts out his jaw. "You kinda look a bit on the scrawny side to me—"

"I am not!" I interrupt as I slam my hand down on his desk with more force than I expected, sending papers flying off the desk. Shit. What the hell was that? Is it possible to get fired from a job two minutes after getting it? Whatever. Who is he to judge me anyway? Just because I'm small in stature doesn't mean I can't pull my own weight!

"Oh look at you," he replies flatly, cocking his head to the side to see the papers scattered across the floor, "you just killed a pile of papers."

His sarcastic tone only infuriates me further. How am I supposed to work with this man? I don't have to deal with this; I can definitely find a job somewhere else. Anything would be better than having to deal with this piece of work, everyday, for the entire summer. I'm just about to get up and storm out of this hell hole when Haymitch looks back up at me and lets out a gruff laugh.

"You'll be working with two other summer students. One's from your school actually, same class as you I think, can't remember his name though."

Really? I try to make a mental checklist of all the guys in my class to try and figure out who it might be. There are a few I'd definitely like it _not_ to be. Well, things just keep getting better and better for me. Can my worlds clash any more?

I've always tried to keep my home life and my university life separate. Fewer complications if I could keep it that way, but this week is kicking that idea to the curb and there's nothing I can do but accept it I guess.

I take a deep breath to calm myself before asking, "So what hours will we be working?" I'm trying to move the conversation along so I can get out of here in one piece.

"Be here at 7:30 every morning and then depending on how the day goes, well, we'll just leave quitting time open ended for now. Don't worry, you'll be getting paid hourly."

Good, by the sounds of it I should be able to make some good money this summer then. I'll just have to remind myself of that every time I look at this guy. I might even make enough to finally get my damn car fixed.

"Dress code is work jeans and long sleeves," he frowns at me, obviously not approving of my choice in clothing for the interview.

What did he expect? This is supposed to be an interview.

"Do you have work boots?" he continues.

I shake my head no. He huffs as he wipes his face with his palms.

"Then you better get shopping and pick up something before Friday. And get some rubber boots while you're at it, you'll need them. Oh, and see Boggs downstairs on your way out. He'll hook you up with a hard hat and safety vest."

The phone rings and I jump a little in my seat. He lets out a loud sigh when he reads the call display.

"I gotta take this, see you Friday at 7:30," he waves me off as he reaches to answer the phone.

Really? That's it? I glance at the clock again. That was only fifteen minutes! What the hell am I complaining about though? I got the job didn't I? This is going to be quite the work experience to say the least, working for Haymitch. I just hope it'll be worth it. I collect my purse and stand to make take my leave.

"Oh and sweetheart..," he frowns as he covers the receiver with is hand, "just, try not to get yourself hurt out there."

"How encouraging," I mumble under my breath, unsure if it was audible enough for him to hear. I think I hear him 'humph' in response but I don't turn around to see as I practically stomp out of the room and down the creaky staircase in seek of Mr. Boggs.

* * *

When I get back to my car I pop the trunk and toss in my brand spanking new white hard hat and bright orange reflective safety vest. Mr. Boggs, or Boggs as he requested me to call him, was actually quite pleasant in comparison to Haymitch. From first look, I though he looked ex-military with his clean cut buzzed head and strong facial features. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to drop and give him twenty or salute him, but he gave me the most sincere smile when I introduced myself that I knew I was in good hands.

Once back in the safety of my vehicle, I pull out my phone and see I have a few text messages waiting for me.

_Joho: Did I leave my fucking watch at your house?_

_Joho: Never mind…found it._

_Joho: Oh yeah, you employed?_

I respond back to Johanna with a smiley face and ask her if she wants to celebrate tonight. I could use a drink, plus both my parents are out tonight so Prim and I will be left to fend for ourselves. Speaking of Prim, the next message makes me smile.

_Little Duck: Fingers crossed!_

Oh Prim, sometimes I think she's my biggest cheerleader which makes me love her even more. I don't respond back though as I'll probably see her back at home in twenty minutes.

The next two messages catch me by surprise but I can't help the grin that tugs at my face.

_Peeta: Hope your interview went well!_

_Peeta: Coffee later?_

Shit. I feel like messaging Johanna back to cancel my earlier request, but that'd be the bitchiest thing ever. Ugh. She'd understand though, right? Before I can mull over it another second, my phone vibrates.

_Joho: Fuuuucck yeah!_

_Joho: My place at 8, you bring the news, I'll supply the booze!_

Well that's settled then. I text Johanna back that I'll just head over after dinner seeing that I have nothing else planned for tonight.

As for Peeta, I respond back with my plans with Johanna and ask for a rain check. I throw my phone on the passenger seat and start the engine. Just as I'm about to pull out of the parking lot my phone vibrates again.

_Peeta: No prob! Maybe Friday night then?_

_Peeta: I'm holding you to it! ;)_

I can't help but smile at his last text, mainly because all I can picture is Peeta literally holding me. His muscular arms wrapped around me as he rubs circles into my lower back, the feel of his scruff on my neck…my god I need help! I stomp on my parking brake to release it and look around to make sure the coast is clear before pushing on the gas and head for home.

* * *

"So I got red or white?"

I stroll through the doorway with a grin as Johanna greets me with a bottle of wine in each hand.

"I noticed the lack of vehicles in the drive way on my way in, slumming it alone tonight then?" I shuck off my jean jacket and throw it and my purse onto the chair in the foyer. I grab my phone out of my purse just in case and follow Johanna down the hall.

"Yeah, they're at some charity silent auction thing tonight at the country club," Johanna says nonchalantly with a shrug.

During senior year, Johanna moved out of her aunt and uncle's main house and into the small guest house next door. She pretty much had a whole wing of the house to herself since her cousins were all older than her and had moved out years ago, but apparently that wasn't enough distance from her aunt and uncle. The guest house wasn't used that much so she just decided one day to move herself in. She still goes over to the main house for meals and laundry since she can't be bothered. Pretty sweet deal if you ask me.

"I'll go with the white, you know what red does to me," I laugh as I take the bottle and head for the kitchen.

"Little Miss Chatterbox," Johanna snorts. "Come on, I miss her!"

"Oh I'm sure, the same way I miss Little Miss Giggles when you drink white!"

"Yeah, yeah, come on," she grabs two stemless wine glasses from the cupboard and we make our way to the small yet cozy living room. "I was going to start without you, but you know, this is your celebration."

"Oh, how sweet of you," I smirk as I flop onto the couch and throw my feet up onto the coffee table in front of me.

"So, yeah, what's your boss like?" Johanna asks as she takes a seat next to me and pulls her feet up underneath her. "Is he hot?"

I almost spit out the sip I just took of my wine all over the coffee table. "Oh god, NO! Are you fucking kidding me?" I shriek in revulsion.

"Whoa, it's a valid question, Everdeen. Calm your tits."

I shake my head at the thought of anyone finding Haymitch attractive. Maybe during his younger years, and if he cut his hair. Oh, and maybe if he shaved and showered too. Ugh. I shudder again at the thought.

"Whatever, I got the job so at least that's a weight off my chest," I sigh. "I start on Friday and I don't have to dress up or anything and apparently I'll be outside for most of the time."

"So, it's pretty much your dream job then," Johanna says as she leans over to put her wine glass on the table next to her.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. The people there seemed really laid back, so hopefully I'll fit in." I take another sip of my Riesling Reserve 2008, damn this is good stuff. I look up at Johanna who is staring at me with brooding eyes and her elbow propped up on the back of the couch. "What?"

She's silent for a few more seconds before speaking up with a frown, "Come on, we both know why you're really here."

"Um, we do? I thought we were, uh, celebrating?" I furrow my eyebrows in confusion as I put my glass down on the coffee table and cross my arms defensively across my chest. What is she getting at? This doesn't feel right.

"You've got some splainin' to do, Everdeen," Johanna chides as she continues to stare at me.

Huh? What the fuck is going on here? Johanna is looking at me like I'm keeping some big secret from her; like I'm guilty for something. Does she want to know about my date with Peeta? Shit. Maybe I should have told her how it went sooner. But she looks a little…disappointed? I wish she'd just tell me what the hell is going on.

"Johanna, I honestly have no idea what the hell you're talking about and you know I hate mind games," I huff, trying to emphasize my annoyance. "You're looking at me like I just robbed a bank. Is this about my date with Peeta? I know I should have told you earlier but I've just been busy at home and—"

"I just never thought of you as the two-timing type," she interrupts. "That's all."

My mouth hangs open as I try to process what she just said. Did she just call me the 'two-timing' type?

"Johanna, what the fuck are you talking about?" I'm struggling between shock and anger right now. Is she serious? Is this some kind of a joke?

"When were you going to tell me that Gale is back in town?" She sighs but then her eyes soften slightly; I think she's picking up on my confused frustration.

"Gale?" I reply with wide eyes. "What does he have to do with anything? And for your information, I only found out about it two days ago when I saw him at the movies when I was on my date with Peeta," I snap, trying to reel in my temper. "Oh, and he was with Delly!"

Johanna sits back against the arm of the couch as her lips form into a tight frown. She taps her pointer fingers lightly against her lips as she thinks over what I've just said.

"So, there's…uh…nothing you want to tell me then?" she asks with uncertainty in her voice.

"Jo, I'm really trying to not have a freak out right now," I take a deep breath. "What the fuck is going on and what are you not telling me?"

"Well shit, you better down that glass of wine then, you're gonna need it."

I eye her suspiciously before grabbing my glass from the coffee table and draining the contents in one large gulp. I take a deep breath again to calm myself before turning back to face Johanna and raising my eyebrows suggestively for her to continue.

"So, there, uh…may or may not be a rumor going around that you're dating Gale and that you guys had some sort of a fight and that you're using Peeta to get back at him." Johanna leans back and puts her hands up to cover her face defensively as if I'm going to lash out at her.

I stare blankly back at her for a minute, trying to make sense of what she's just said. Who the hell would say that? No one else, besides Johanna, even knows that Gale and I had a relationship. This is so fucked up.

"Well, that is just absolute bullshit, Jo, and why the hell would you even believe it without talking to me first? What makes you think I'd do that?"

I can't believe she think that about me. Think that I'm capable of or want to hurt someone like that. I can't help but feel slightly betrayed right now. Oh fuck. What if Peeta hears about it? What if he's already heard about it? Shit!

"Hey, I'm sorry," Johanna whispers as she slowly leans forward and puts her hand on my shoulder. "I didn't really think it was true, but when I didn't hear back from you after your date with Peeta, I don't know, I just thought maybe something was up."

I close my eyes and try not to freak out on Johanna right now, she's just the messenger. I need to clear this up. "Listen, Gale and I dated for like three months back at school and it's been over for almost just as long. I haven't seen or spoken to him until Monday, and trust me, I was just as surprised as you to see him back in town. I swear Jo, I'd never in my life ever sink that low and I'd never hurt Peeta like that!"

"I know, Katniss." Johanna looks at me with apologetic eyes and I know that Johanna admitting she's sorry for something is a rare event to witness so she's sincere. "It's just stupid small town fucking gossip, don't worry about it. I'm sure it'll blow over before you know it."

I know she's trying to make me feel better, but it only causes me to mull it over more and more. This is why I didn't want to come back! This could have all been avoided! Then again, I wouldn't be having my second chance with Peeta right now. Ugh. I need more information.

"Where'd you hear this rumor anyway?" I question with a calm voice.

"Uh, Madge actually. She said she was at the mall and ran into Glimmer and Clove, so that means—."

"Delly," I finish. "Damn she's persistent, and obviously not my biggest fan right now." I bury my face into my palms and start to rub small circles against my temples. "Well, thanks anyway, for giving me the heads up."

"What are you going to do?"

"What can I do?" I huff. "Well, the last thing I need is Peeta getting wind of it so I guess I should talk to him about it. Even if he hasn't heard anything yet, I'd rather him know what's going on instead of being blindsided by it."

Shit. That means I'm going to have to tell him about Gale, and after his little questions game from Monday, he's going to want details. This is going to be so damn awkward. Fuck.

"Well, now that we've cleared up that shit," Johanna says with a loud and more upbeat voice as she grabs her glass. "Have you guys, ya know, gotten to know each other in the biblical sense yet?" she smirks as she elbows me in the side suggestively.

"That's none of your business, Jo," I frown.

"Yeah, yeah, no kissing and telling…got it. I was just hoping the wine would loosen your lips a bit," she laughs.

At that instant I hear my phone vibrate on the coffee table in front of me, signaling a new text message. We both stare at it for a second before I slowly pick it up to see who it's from.

"Shit," I hiss between my clenched teeth.

"Who's it from?" Johanna asks cautiously.

"Gale."

"Oh, speak of the devil. What does he want?"

I look to the message again.

_Gale: We need to talk. NOW._

Before I can answer Johanna though, my phone vibrates again as three more texts comes in.

_Peeta: Hey, can we talk? _

_Peeta: I know you said you were busy with Johanna, but I just need to ask you something. _

_Peeta: Let me know, thanks._

Shit. I look up at Johanna with panic written all over my face.

"Oh boy," Johanna groans, "shit just got real."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Dun dun duuuuuunnnn! So how do you like Haymitch? He's going to be fun in this story as her boss. Anyways, hope you enjoyed this chapter and thanks to all of you who have started following and to those who have left reviews. Please keep it up! I like feedback!

Come tumble with me! Details on my profile page, thanks!


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** This fanfic is rated 'M' for language and sexual content. I do not own any of the characters of The Hunger Games.

* * *

**Chapter 13: An Unannounced Visitor**

"So, what are you going to do?" Johanna asks with a serious tone to her voice.

I glance over in her direction and see the _"I'm so glad I'm not you right now"_ look that she's giving me. It's not very reassuring. At all. Hell, I don't even want to be me right now. What the hell could Gale possibly want? As for Peeta, he didn't quite come out and say what he wants either. I sigh in frustration but there's no doubt who I know I need to talk to first.

"It's pretty obvious, I have to go talk to him," I sigh. I think I feel a headache coming on so I squint my eyes shut and start to rub my temples again.

"Him…which him?"

"Peeta of course," I snap. "The hell with Gale, I don't have anything to say to him."

"Good choice," she mutters as she holds her glass up to her lips, but she doesn't take a sip. "Good choice," she mutters again. "Do you think he knows?"

I look back at the text again as if it'll suddenly become clearer to me the more times I read it. All it says is that he wants to ask me something. What else could it be though? Whatever it is, it has to be something important, right?

"I'm not sure since he was a little vague regarding the topic up for discussion." I bring my glass up to my lips but realize I've already drained my glass. Damn it.

I probably shouldn't be drinking anymore anyway, not if I want to be coherent for when I talk to Peeta. I look at the time on my phone. It's only 8:45. I haven't been here that long considering that I was a bit late arriving because of Prim. She asked me to drop her off at Rue's before hand and she couldn't get her ass out the door in time, as usual.

I tighten my grip on my phone and look over to Johanna again. "I'm going to call Peeta now, mind if I use the balcony?"

"Of course, do whatever you gotta do," she says as she jumps to her feet. "I'm going to try and find something from the big house to snack on later. Sound good?"

"Yeah, sounds good. I'm sure I'm going to need something sweet and fattening after this conversation."

"Sweet and fattening, got it, done and done." She scurries off to the kitchen and deposits her empty glass into the sink. She slips into a pair of flip flops before giving me a small wave as she disappears out the front door.

The house is quiet, and uncomfortable kind of quiet. I spy the remote on the couch and turn it on for background noise. Much better. I try to gather my thoughts as I make my way up the stairs to the second floor. Johanna's bedroom is at the end of the hall but there's a small alcove in the hallway with a big bay window. I slip my phone into my back pocket as I unlatch the lock on the window and give it a hard push to get it open. As I step out onto the roof, I inhale a deep breath of the cool evening air. It does wonders for my nerves. Why am I so nervous? This is ridiculous. I'm acting like I have something to hide. I don't have anything to hide.

Just as I'm about to pull my phone back out to dial Peeta's number, my phone lights up and starts ringing. I say a silent prayer before I glance down to see the call display. Thank god.

"Hey, I was just about to call you!"

"_Beat you to it I guess, sorry to bother you like this, I know you're hanging out with Johanna right now."_

"Hey, that's OK, I wanted to talk to you too."

"_Cool, but first off, how was your interview?"_

"Oh, yeah, my interview, it was…fine? I guess? I got the job so that's all that really matters, right?"

"_I knew you'd be fine, doubt never crossed my mind."_

There's a short pause and I'm not sure if I should just start into the speech I've been trying to come up with in my head or just wait to see where he takes this.

"_So listen…I've never been one for small town gossip, but I heard something today that kind of took me by surprise."_

"Um, OK, go on…"

I shut my eyes and brace myself for the accusations to start.

"_Well, Delly came by the bakery this afternoon just before closing and she started grilling me about you. I told her that I didn't think it was any of her business, but then she told me to ask you about Gale."_

Oh god…this doesn't sound good.

"_So, I'm not exactly sure what I'm supposed to be asking you, but judging by how things went when we saw them after the movie, you did seem a little…off. Is there something I'm missing here?"_

Shit. Why is this so hard for me to talk about? I open my mouth to say something but the words get caught in my throat. Wait, why should I have to tell him anything? Why does it matter what happened in the past, does he really want to know all the gory details of every relationship I've had? I don't care about his past, why does mine matter so much?

"_Katniss? The silence isn't really reassuring at the moment."_

"Gale and I dated at school," I finally blurt out.

"_Date…,"_ he repeats slowly.

"Yes, dated."

"_Not…dating."_

"NO!" I yell into the phone defensively. "Of course not! I'd never do something like that! We only dated for like three months and then broke it off awhile ago, months ago really."

His silence seems to go on forever. I wish I could just see his face right now, see his reaction as he mulls my words over in his head. This is why I hate phones. For all I know he's rolling his eyes at me or stabbing pins into a miniature Katniss voodoo doll. I think I hear some fidgeting over the line but I'm not sure. Finally he breaks the silence and speaks.

"_Why didn't you just tell me before? You know, when we were talking about exes?"_

"Well, you didn't exactly ask me who I dated, now did you. You just asked if I had any crazy exes."

"_OK, well maybe I didn't ask you that exact question, but after seeing him and Delly at the movies, it didn't cross your mind to maybe mention it?"_

"No, I didn't," I respond matter-of-fact like and a little agitated. "Why would I want to ruin a perfectly good evening by hashing out my past relationships, that doesn't sound like very entertaining first date, now does it?"

I think back to what we actually talked about on our date and well, I guess we didn't really discuss typical first date topics during dinner. Whatever. That's not the point.

"_Do you still have feelings for him?"_

I hold the phone away from me and stare at it. Did he honestly just ask me if I still had feelings for Gale? What the fuck? First off, it's none of his fucking business and second, absolutely not. I open my mouth to respond but he continues before I can get a word in.

"_Listen, I'm only asking because you'd have to be blind if you didn't think I saw the tension between you two after the movie. I wasn't sure what it was at first, but then all I could come up with was that it was either genuine distaste for each other or…well, the opposite." _

I try to steady my breathing to calm myself so I don't end up snapping at him and saying something I'll regret. I have a known history for saying things in the heat of the moment that I've regretted, and it's happened way too many times for my liking. I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

"Peeta, I'm going to say this once and one time only. No, I do _not_ still have feelings for Gale, and for the record, I don't have feelings for any of my past boyfriends. I'm not the type to stay hung up over someone like that, I move on and so should you." I realize that my tone had more of a harsh edge than I wanted it to, so I try to lighten it up so he'll actually listen me. "Please, Peeta, believe me. There's nothing going on, that's all in the past, done and over with, and besides…I'm with you now."

I'm met with silence from his end once again. Damn it! Enough of the dramatic silence! It's killing me. That's it, I swear we're never having a serious conversation over the phone ever again, this is just too stressful. I finally hear him whisper something.

"_You are?"_

I can't help but frown because his tone is full of uncertainty, like it's such a far off notion that I would want to be with him. Yet again, I feel like I've just kicked a wounded puppy. Hmm, maybe after all these years of unrequited love, it's still an issue with him. Am I going to have to do this all the time? Reassure him of my feelings? Well, it's not like I've been totally forthcoming with my feelings for him yet, so maybe I'm still partially to blame. We should really define what ever it is we're doing here, for both our sakes. I let out a sad but slightly frustrated sigh.

"Well, um, yeah…I was hoping to be…for awhile at least."

"_So are we finally going to define…us?"_

"If it means that much to you," I try to joke nervously.

"_Of course it does, Katniss. So, would dating be the proper label?"_

"Exclusively dating."

"_Hmmm…I like the sound of that." _

I can practically hear him smiling over the phone.

"Me too."

I can't hold back a nervous giggle and it's immediately followed by another, and another. Jeez, he's got me giggling like a little school girl. Who knew dating could be so…sweet.

"_Well I'm glad we were able to clear that up. Where's Johanna?"_

"Oh shit, Jo! I almost forgot. She's said she was going to scrounge around for something to eat, and I think she should be back by now. I should probably go."

Thank god that went a lot better than I had expected. I lean my head forward to rest on my forearm.

"So I'll talk to you later then?"

"_Sounds good, say hi to Johanna for me. Have a good night Katniss."_

"You too, good night Peeta."

I linger on the line for a second before pressing the end call button on my phone. I take a quick look around before securing my phone back into my back pocket and climbing back through the window. There's some noise coming from downstairs so Johanna must be back already.

As I descend the stairs, I play back my conversation with Peeta in my head. Why would he think I still had feelings for Gale? It really hit a nerve when he asked me that. Why is this bothering me?

"So, I take it that every things been squared away then?" Johanna asks as she leans over to place something in the oven.

"Yeah, well…I think so."

"Good, I found a frozen pizza, sorry, couldn't find anything sweet and fattening really," she smiles excitedly as she throws the box into the recycling box. "Well, there was a half eaten cheesecake in the fridge but I wasn't about to carry that all the way over…" She turns around but her smile quickly fades into a frown once she meets my eyes. "What's the matter now?"

Good question, what is the matter? I have this strange feeling in the pit of my stomach and it frustrates me because I'm not sure why. Everything ended well with Peeta on the phone, so what else is there?

"I…I don't know."

"You sure?"

"He asked me if I still had feelings for Gale, can you believe that?" I scoff.

"Well, do you?"

"What the fuck, Jo! Of course not!" I snap as I throw my phone down onto the couch.

"Well damn, based on that reaction, sure seems like there's something there. You sure? Maybe you need to talk to him."

"I have nothing to say to him." I pout like a little child and cross my arms in front of my chest defensively.

"OK, whatever, but if you're not sure if there's any residual feelings lingering around in there, then maybe you should just…I don't know…kiss him?"

"What? Are you kidding me?" I stare back at her with wide eyes.

"No, really, hear me out," she says as she leans onto the counter. "It's not really that bad of an idea. If you think you may still feel something for him, then just kiss him. You always over think things so maybe if you just stop using your brain for two seconds and just let your body go with it, you'll be able to answer your question."

I stare back at Johanna like she's speaking Latin.

"Uh, and how do you think Peeta would feel about that?"

"He doesn't have to know," she says with a shrug.

I let out a long breath through my frown and shake my head.

"I think that's the stupidest idea you've ever came up with."

"Hey, I never said I was a relationship coach. Maybe you'd just be better off talking to Annie, she's good at this kind of stuff."

"I just…well…shit…maybe I should just go and…," I trail off as I look to my feet in shame.

Johanna lets out a loud, long huff and I lift my head slightly to peek up to gauge her reaction. She shakes her head but I can tell she's trying to keep from smiling.

"Just go then and ditch me," she says while rolling her eyes. "I could tell right away that I wasn't going to win you over with pizza."

I can't help but let out a small laugh. She knows me too well and I'm going to have to make this up to her somehow. I'm not too worried about it though, she'll let me know whether I like it or not.

I take two steps towards her and throw my arms around her neck and whisper, "Thank you, Jo."

"Don't worry about it, I have a date with American Idol anyway," she smirks as she grabs the remote and changes the channel on the flat screen.

I smile at her one more time before almost running to the foyer to grab my jacket and purse. As I close the door behind me I feel my phone vibrate again in my back pocket. I fish it out while trying to find my keys with my other hand. Multitasking has never been a forte of mine so I curse under my breath when I drop my keys in the grass. My phone vibrates again when I finally get it out. Shit.

_Gale: Ignoring me won't do you any favors._

_Gale: Call me._

What the hell is that supposed to mean? I have to keep from throwing my phone into the back seat once I get into my car. I'll deal with him later, I'm on a mission. I glance over to the clock as I start to back out of the driveway. It's only 9:30 but the street Johanna lives on looks like everyone has already turned in for the night and there isn't a soul in sight.

* * *

The drive takes less than five minutes and I can feel my body start to shiver out of anticipation. Maybe this isn't a good idea. What if he's not home? Showing up on someone's door step unannounced late at night isn't my kind of thing.

When I finally put my car in park and shut off the engine, I peer out of the windshield and look up to the apartment above the bakery. There are two windows lit up with a soft glow. Well, he's home at least. I grab my phone and decide to turn it off; I've almost had enough of Gale's annoying texts and Prim said she'd get a ride home with Rory. I take a deep breath and gather my things and my thoughts.

I don't do things like this. I've always just gone with the flow and let other people take the drivers seat. When did I become the initiator? Although, now that I think about it, I've been doing a lot of the initiating lately. I'm the one who called Johanna to take me to Finnick's party, I kissed Peeta first, I'm the one who approached him (well with Johanna's help that is) and said I wanted to give this a chance. Now's not the time to chicken out.

My body goes into autopilot as I take the steps one at a time up to the second floor of the bakery. I don't think I've ever been up here before, not like I've ever had a reason to. Peeta mentioned that he couldn't stand the thought of living at home for the summer so his Dad offered him the apartment over the bakery. They normally rented it out but by chance they weren't able to find a renter for the summer.

As I approach the door my heart beat picks up and I can feel my palm start to sweat. Damn it, not now. I wipe them on my jeans and tuck the loose strands of hair that have fallen into my face behind my ear. I straighten out my jacket and tighten my hold on the strap of my purse as I lift my other hand and knock on the door three times lightly.

I take a step back and wait. Nothing happens at first and I'm not sure if I should have knocked a little louder. Maybe this is a sign that this wasn't a good idea. Out of nervousness, I start to gnaw on my bottom lip and look back to the stairs. Fuck. I can feel my insides clenching. Ok, I've waited long enough, but before I can take another step away, the door in front of me suddenly opens.

My heart skips a beat when I take in the vision in front of me. He's wearing a plain white t-shirt and blue and black flannel pajama bottoms that rest precariously low on his hips. His hair is slightly flattened on one side, like he's been laying down on the couch or something. It's fucking adorable.

He rapidly blinks as he looks at me with a surprised expression. He doesn't say anything though. He just stands there in the doorway staring back at me as if he's deciding what to do with me. I can hear the muffled sound of the TV in the background. Its sounds like a boring documentary or something, so maybe my unannounced interruption wasn't as badly timed as I had thought.

"Hi," I finally whisper as it's all I can manage at the moment.

"Hey," he says. I can see the corner of his mouth turn slightly, "I wasn't really expecting company, so yeah, would you like to come—,"

Before he can finish his sentence I launch myself forward and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling his face down to mine. Our lips meet and he lets out a surprised gasp before his arms circle around my waist tightly and he lifts me slightly. As he turns away from the door with me in his arms, I feel his leg move to slam it shut, his lips never leaving mine. I fist my hands into his soft hair and pull him closer. I need to feel him. I need more of him. I need all of him.

As he walks us further into the apartment I catch a quick glimpse around from the corner of my eye. There's a TV against the wall and a beige couch and coffee table in front of it. The apartment appears to be just one big open space and on the other side of us is a small dining table and chairs. We eventually come to a stop and he lowers me down onto what must be the kitchen counter.

We break away and I try to get my panting under control. I throw my purse down on the floor and shrug off my jacket quickly. I can feel my head starting to cloud over with pure raw want and desire. I so need this. I need to feel him. I don't want to take things slow. Fuck that. I spread my legs further apart and grab at his waist to pull him closer to me. He releases his grasp around my waist and places his hands down on either side of me as his eyes flutter closed.

"Katniss,'" he whispers. "You can't do this to me," he continues between labored breaths.

"What," I playfully tease, "I can't do what?"

He opens his eyes and stares at me as he starts to suck on his bottom lip. Oh god, I want his lip in my mouth. I lean forward to capture it but he leans back slightly just before I can. He lets out a deep sigh.

"Show up on my doorstep late at night," he groans before he finally gives in and leans in to trail the tip of his nose up the side of my neck. "You can't do that and except me to behave myself."

I pull back slightly to take in the sexy grin that is sprawled across his face and I clench my legs together in earnest but it's too late, I can already feel the wetness pooling between my legs.

"I don't expect you to," I say as I nip at his ear. I don't walk to talk, I just want to get lost in his touch. "Please," I beg quietly.

My request sets in motion a flurry of hands as he reaches to undo the button and zipper of my jeans and I fumble with the buttons of my shirt. Damn it, why didn't I just wear a t-shirt today? When I finally break free of my shirt I reach down and peel off the tank top I had underneath as Peeta tugs at my panties and jeans. I lift my hips willingly, allowing him to pull them off completely in one tug.

I lower the rest of my body back onto the counter and the feel of the cool granite on my backsides causes my back to arch slightly as goose bumps slowly begin to cover my lower body. He effortlessly inches my whole body back until I'm resting my feet on the edge of the counter. I lift my head slightly to peek up over my body at him. He notices and when our eyes lock with each others, he slowly reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it up over his head. I'm pretty sure he deliberately flexes every possible muscle in his upper body as he does it, but I'm not complaining.

I try to lower my eyes but all I can see is the waistband of his flannel pants which are already hanging dangerously low on his hips, allowing full view of his well defined oblique muscles. Huh, no boxers. His upper body twists as he throws his shirt over his shoulder, every muscle flexing and tightening again. Holy fuck, he's perfect. I can't believe this is happening right now, it's almost too much for me to take it. How long has it been? Shit, too long my body screams.

I lower my head back a little too quickly and hit it hard on the counter. I wince slightly but end up giggling to myself, I'll take the pain if means I get to stare at a shirtless Peeta all night. I lean my head to the side, the cool counter feels amazing against my flushed cheeks. Out of the corner of my eye I see Peeta bend forward slightly and in one swift motion, I'm staring at his bare thigh. He turns slightly and I catch a glimpse of his hardness. Oh god, am I ready for this? He wraps his hand around himself and slides in up and down his length twice before releasing himself and leaning forward. Then the feel of his large hands on my inner things, spreading me open, startles me and I reflectively buck my hips forward.

He chuckles and mumbles something along the lines of "eager" I think, but the sound of my rapidly beating heart fills my ears and almost drowns out everything around me, so I'm not sure if he really said anything at all. I turn my head again and stare up at the ceiling, the bright pendant light shining brightly into my eyes causes me to close them. The silence and anticipation has me on edge so I'm not prepared for it when he shifts his hands and pushes my knees forward. I feel the heat of his tongue flat against my folds as he licks me up and down tantalizingly slow and then quickly, repeating a steady cycle of slow and fast. A familiar heat begins to pool in my lower stomach and I know this steady build is what my body has been craving. He suddenly breaks his cycle and licks further up to my bundle of nerves and flicks it lightly before hungrily sucking it into his warm, wet mouth. The sensation is almost too much and I can't stop my body from pushing upwards to meet his mouth as a low moan escapes my lips and my eyes burst open. The friction of his day old stubble against my sensitive area both tickles and stimulates me further.

Sensing my eagerness and frustration, he begins to circle it with just the right amount of pressure and speed. He catches me off guard again and I let out another moan when he fills me with two of his fingers and begins to circle them inside me in tandem with his tongue. The heat coursing through my lower body is now burning, and I can feel myself inching closer and closer to sweet release and when he takes me in his mouth again and sucks hard, he moans loudly and the vibrations from his mouth send shockwaves of pleasure throughout my body and I force my eyes shut even more as I ride this wave of pleasure. I slowly lower my back and I try to regain my senses as I come down from my blissful high.

"Holy shit," I mumble under my breath as I bring my arm to rest across my eyes.

My lower body feels like jelly and I have all intentions of lifting myself up onto my elbows, but before I can I feel Peeta's arms snake around my waist, pulling me up to a seated position on the edge of the counter. His mouth twitches into a wicked grin, the evidence of my arousal and his salvia clearly evident around his mouth. He releases one of his hands from the small of my back and wipes his mouth with the back of his arm. Then his free hand is in my hair and he pulls me to him and his lips crash into mine. My lips begin to move along with his as I fully come back to my senses. His tongue tastes tangy but I don't mind at all. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer. I can feel his hardness pressed up against my inner thigh and clamp my legs around him in response, eliciting a sexy, low groan from the back of Peeta's throat.

He suddenly pulls away slightly and with hooded eyes and between quick breaths he manages to ask, "Are you…do we need…uh…shit…" He trails off as I begin to trail kisses down his neck.

I know what he's asking and I'm thankful that I didn't stop taking the pill when Gale and I broke up. I shake my head. "Don't…worry…I'm…the pill," is all I can get out between kisses.

I lean in to nip at his neck once again, but instead, both of his hands drop to my ass and he pulls me forward until I'm teetering on the edge of the counter. I brace myself as he takes a quick breath and places a chaste kiss on my lips. He finds my entrance and with one forceful thrust, his buries his entire length into me. I quickly shift my hips to accommodate the fullness, but before I can savor the feeling of him, he quickly pulls out and begins to push into me slowly at first and then varies his speed between quick shallow thrusts and slow deep ones. The angle I'm seated at causes him to hit my sweet spot over and over again with each inward thrust.

My grip around his neck tightens and I dig my nails into his shoulders as he picks up speed. The feel of the heat radiating off my body is pleasantly offset by the cool granite beneath me and I begin to run my fingers through is hair as my lips eagerly find his again. His rhythm begins to steady into hard, quick thrusts and I can sense he's getting close, but so am I. As if reading my mind, one of his hands leaves my ass and finds my clit once again, satisfying the ache with fast, hard circles.

I open my eyes to find his deep blue ones boring into me, sweat starting to bead along his hairline. Our foreheads meet and through labored grunts he moans, "Come on baby…please…come with me."

With one final hard push against my clit with his the pad of his thumb, I shatter around him and I feel my insides clench around him. With one final thrust, he buries himself inside me and finds his own completion.

We sit there still wrapped in each others arms, panting as we try to catch our breath. When my breathing finally evens out, he cups my chin and leans in for a slow, languid kiss. When we break apart a small, shy smile tugs at my mouth.

"That was…" I begin but quickly trail off, unsure of how to finish my sentence. My mind still hasn't quite caught up with what's just transpired in the middle of Peeta's apartment. In his kitchen. On his counter. I can't help but quietly laugh to myself.

"Do I amuse you?" he chuckles as he plants a light kiss in my hair.

"Very much so," I reply playfully. That was exactly what I needed. I'm suddenly overcome by an overwhelming desire to close my eyes and fall asleep against his chest. I try to suppress a yawn, but fail miserably.

"Tired?" he whispers.

I nod as I nuzzle my head into the crook of his neck and close my eyes. His arms encircle me again and before I know it he lifts me off the counter and we're moving away from the kitchen. He nudges open another door with his foot and a few steps later he lowers my still naked body onto his bed. I curl up on my side and open my eyes just as he lowers his head onto the pillow beside me. His lips are curled into a shy grin and he looks like he's contemplating something.

"Stay with me, please?" he asks with pleading eyes.

I should really go. If someone had told me that I'd be ending my day in Peeta's bed tonight, I'd say it was a long shot. But now that I'm actually here though, against my better judgment, I can't bring myself to move. I close my eyes to try and clear my head. His mattress is so ridiculously soft. Fuck, I'm so comfortable here. As I sink further into his fluffy duvet, my senses are overcome by a scent that is undeniably Peeta. I inhale into the pillow I'm laying on and suddenly my mind is made up.

"Always," I whisper before closing my heavy eyelids.

I feel the weight of his body against the mattress as moves closer to me to rest an arm around my waist. His thumb lightly grazes back and forth against my skin as I drift into a deeper state of unconsciousness. I think I hear him mumble something before I completely succumb to sleep, but I'm too out of it to hear. All I know is that I feel warm, satiated, and undeniably…happy.

* * *

**Author's Note:** So are you all happy now?! Just kidding, this was a long time coming, haha, no pun intended. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed, and favorited! You really do make my day! Word of warning to you though, don't get too comfortable folks, she still has to face Gale…eek. Let me know what you think of their first time!

You can follow me on Tumblr (pookieh)!


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** This fanfic is rated 'M' for language and sexual content. I do not own any of the characters of The Hunger Games.

* * *

**Chapter 14: Are You Kidding Me?**

I awake to the smell of cinnamon and baked goods. It's a pleasant, yet unexpected aroma to wake up to in the morning, as no one in my family really bakes. I stretch my arms out on the bed to pull the covers over me; I must have kicked them off in the middle of the night. Wait. This isn't my bed.

My eyes fly open as I sit up to take in my surroundings. Suddenly, the memory of last night comes flooding back to me. Wow, I thought that was a dream. An incredibly vivid and pleasurable dream. A smirk slowly spreads across my face. Well, it wouldn't be the first time I had a dream that featured Peeta and me in a provocative situation. My hand strokes the side of the bed where he had fallen asleep last night and I can't help but pout a little over the fact that I woke up alone.

I sit up in the middle of Peeta's queen size bed, surrounded by a hotel quality duvet. Wow, this must have cost a fortune. My habit for trying to put a price tag to everything I see is one I can't seem to kick. I look down and frown as I recall that I fell asleep naked. Shit, my clothes must still be outside in the kitchen. I quickly pull the soft sheet up around me, although I'm not sure why. Peeta's already seen me naked and I'm pretty sure there's no one else around.

I do a once over of the room. It's a decent size, painted in a cool, light gray. There's a nightstand to my left with a lamp, an alarm clock, and a few books. A dresser with a small flat screen TV is across from the bed and there's a comfy looking old armchair in the corner. What really catches my attention though is a large mural to my right that spreads across half the wall next to the bed.

Impressed by the sheer size of it, I stand with the sheet still wrapped around me and walk over to the mural for a closer look. There are tall evergreen trees on one side that open to a clearing of a rocky riverbank and a stream that seems to be pouring out of the wall. I trace my fingers lightly over the brushstrokes. It looks so real, unlike anything I've ever seen before. The other edge of the riverbank cuts off back to the blank grey wall. Hmmm…it must be a work in progress.

I spy a mason jar on a wooden box on the floor that's filled with paintbrushes of various lengths and widths. Curiosity gets the best of me and I turn around to make sure I'm still alone. I bend over to quietly move the mason jar to the floor. There's a little brass plaque on the top of the wooden box with the initials "PM" engraved in fancy script. This must have been a gift…an expensive gift. When I open the box I find that it's filled with an assortment of colorful tubes of paint, more than I can count, but tucked into the lid of the box are photographs of various types of wildlife. Hmmm. I look back to the mural and realize I didn't see any.

I take a few steps back from the wall. I examine the mural again, but the longer I stare at it, the more I realize something seems off. The trunk of one of the evergreens catches my eye and I squint and move closer to examine it. That's when I notice a pair of eyes hidden within the trunk…it's an owl! I smile as excitement rushes through me and I feel like a little kid playing a game of hide and seek.

Determined, I take a step back again in search of something else that might be hidden in the painting. There appears to be something hidden amongst the rocks of the riverbank and upon closer inspection, I discover the outline of a small frog. My eyes are then drawn to the blue swirls of the stream and suddenly the outline of a fish pops out. I'm giddy and giggling to myself as I stand back again, totally enthralled with my hunt that I almost don't notice the presence of someone else in the room.

"Oh!" I gasp, dropping the sheets from my body. "You scared me!"

"Good morning to you too," he laughs. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans into the doorway as his eyes run up and down the length of my exposed body. "Sorry, I didn't think you were up yet, but I thought I heard you giggling in here and had to see what was so funny."

I can feel my cheeks flush as I drop to the floor and fumble for the sheet to cover myself. He chuckles lightly and I throw him back my trademark scowl, but my face immediately softens as I take him in. He's wearing the same flannel pajama pants from last night; only now, he's chosen to forgo the t-shirt so his chiseled bare chest is staring back at me. Damn. I force myself to not stare too long and turn my gaze back to the wall.

"Peeta, this mural, it's just…amazing. I've never seen anything like it before."

I hear him move from the doorway to join me in front of the mural. "Well, it's still a work in progress. I only really work on it when I can't sleep." From the corner of my eye I notice his lips form into a small frown as he stares at his work. I can't help but feel like he has more to say but doesn't. Instead he just let's out a small sigh.

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you," I say, smiling at him in hopes of lifting his mood. "Why didn't you tell me you painted?"

"Well, we haven't gotten to the topic of hobbies yet. So yeah," he replies with a shrug. "Anyway, are you hungry?"

I nod my head eagerly. I look down to the sheets around me and frown. "Am I just supposed to wear this for breakfast?"

"Totally fine with me," he smirks. "But if you'd feel more comfortable, I placed your clothes over there on the armchair. The bathroom is right out here," he points to a door right next to the bedroom door, "and I set out a toothbrush for you, just in case."

"Thanks," I say as I grab my clothes and pull up the sheet and scurry to the bathroom, trying not to trip.

As I walk past him, he puts out an arm and catches me by the waist, pulling me in for a quick kiss. When we pull apart, we linger a few seconds longer, our noses just barely grazing each others. "I should get dressed," I whisper and he lets me go with a smile and a light pat on my ass.

I close the door behind me when I enter the bathroom and drop the sheet, which falls into a pile on the floor. I stare at myself in the vanity mirror and almost don't recognize the woman looking back at me. Her cheeks are flushed with a rosy glow, her eyes are bright, but the most unmistakable feature is the ear to ear grin spread across her face. Who is this person? Damn, if this is the after glow of the Peeta Mellark effect, I'll take it!

Once I'm dressed, I find a new toothbrush still in the package sitting next to the sink. Thank god, my teeth are screaming for relief. I quickly tear open the package, remove the toothbrush, and squirt on some toothpaste before shoving it into my mouth. As I happily brush away, I have the urge to snoop a bit; you can find out a lot about someone by what's in their bathroom. My curious free hand opens the vanity mirror but I find that it's somewhat sparse. There's some floss, a disposable razor, some shaving cream, a stick of deodorant, just your typical male hygiene products, nothing too interesting. I open one of the drawers under the counter and inside I find a huge pile of newly packaged toothbrushes.

Holy crap, that's a lot of toothbrushes. My immediate thought jumps to how often this happens. Is Peeta really bringing that many girls home that he has to stock up on toothbrushes for them the morning after? OK, don't jump to conclusions, now is not the time. I quickly push the drawer closed and spit out my spent toothpaste. I take one last look in the mirror; fix my hair as best I can with my fingers and make my way back out to the kitchen.

I find Peeta leaning over the counter with a mug of something steamy in hand and a plate of mouthwatering cinnamon buns in front of him.

"Hey beautiful," he says with a smile, "care to join me?"

There's a mug of something hot sitting across of him so I take a seat on the bar stool in front of it. My cheeks start to flush when I realize that this is the exact spot I was only a few hours ago…naked. I hear Peeta chuckle lightly, totally aware of my realization and embarrassment.

"What is this?" I ask as I warm my hands on the mug, trying to divert the subject to something less awkward.

"Tea, Earl Grey. That's what you like right?"

I frown in response. "How is it that you know so much about me?"

Peeta takes a long sip from his mug and I can't help but stare at his lips and remember where they were the night before. His blue eyes stare sincerely back at me as he puts his mug back down on the counter.

"Katniss, like I said before, I remember everything about you. You're the one who wasn't paying attention."

Well, that answer was vague and disappointing. When would he have noticed what tea I like? And at the movies, how did he know my favorite candy? Or my favorite drink? Maybe he's right; maybe I wasn't really paying attention. I guess I'll need to find out more about him if I want to level out the playing field a bit.

"Well, now I feel like I should know something about you…starting with, what are you drinking?"

"Tea with a splash of milk, no sugar."

Huh, I would have pegged him as a coffee connoisseur. I repeat it in my head again and again trying to commit it to memory. Who knows, this tidbit of information might come in handy some time in the future. He takes another sip of his tea and pushes the plate of cinnamon buns towards me. I don't hesitate and take the one closest to me, letting the sugar glaze ooze onto my fingers.

"They're still warm," I say, before taking a huge bite and letting out a satisfied moan. "These taste so good, Peeta!" I quickly chew, swallow, and take another eager bite. "You can bake, you can paint. Anything else you have hidden up your sleeve that I should know about?"

His mouth turns into a wicked grin as he places his mug back down on the counter. "Oh, a few, but you'll just have to wait and find out."

Something in his tone tells me that he's not talking about your regular, everyday hobbies like bird watching or stamp collecting. No, Peeta definitely has a dirty side to his golden boy facade, which brings my discovery in his bathroom to mind.

"So, what's with all the toothbrushes? Do you get a lot of overnight guests?"

"Uh, no, you're the only overnight guest of the female persuasion that I've had since I moved in. If you didn't notice, I use an electric toothbrush. Every time I go to the dentist, I come home with a free toothbrush, so I guess I just started a collection."

"Oh," I mumble, feeling slightly relieved but guilty. Why do I always assume the worst? Something as innocent as a pile of toothbrushes and I somehow blow it out of proportion.

Averting my eyes out of embarrassment, I spot my purse on the floor next to me in the same place I left it last night. Shit, I forgot that I turned my phone off and didn't tell anyone were I was. I pick it up off the floor and search for my phone. There are two missed calls from Prim and Johanna, and also three text messages.

_Prim: I'm just going to assume you crashed at Johanna's. I'm home safe and sound so I'll see you in the morning!_

At least one of the Everdeen daughters was responsible last night. I've always harped on Prim to let me know where she was and if she was going to be late. Letting those who care about you worry for no reason is one of my pet peeves, so I'm sure she's not going to let me live this one down. The next two messages immediately sour my mood.

_Gale: Fine, I take it you're going to ignore me._

_Gale: Don't say I didn't warn you, see you Friday._

I stare at the last message blankly. Friday? What's happening on Friday? What is he talking about? I let out an annoyed sigh and throw my phone back into my purse. Whatever, I'll deal with him later.

"Something the matter?" Peeta asks cautiously.

I blink a few times before answering. "No, it's nothing, Prim was just wondering where I was." Shit, did I just lie to him? Well, it's just a little white lie really. "I should probably get going though, what time is it anyway?"

"Almost ten thirty."

"Oh, don't you have to work or something?"

"Nah, I'm on the afternoon shift, so I don't start until three." He drains the rest of his tea and sets his empty mug down in the sink and looks back up at me, studying my face. "Katniss, about last night, I know I said I wanted to take things slow but after what happened…I'm finding it hard to. Last night—"

I cut him off before he can try to apologize, "Was the best night I've had in a long time, Peeta. I'm to blame anyway. I'm the one who showed up on your doorstep and threw myself at you."

"Believe me, it was a welcomed surprise," he counters back, his voice smooth and sexy and his eyes hinting at something more.

"Peeta…I really should get going," I say seriously, although my body has already betrayed me and I can feel the wetness gathering between my legs. Shit, how does he do that?

"Ok, I get it," he says, lightly, before his face turns serious, "but we're OK, right?"

I'm not sure if I should feel reassured or frustrated by his unnecessarily insecure tone. Why wouldn't we be OK? Maybe he's worried about the whole Gale thing still. I have a feeling that this is something we're going to have to work on, and I might have my work cut out for me by the looks of it.

"Of course we are," I try to say reassuringly.

To further prove my point, I lean over the counter confidently and slowly motion "come here" with my finger. His eyes instantly brighten as he leans over the rest of the way and our lips meet happily in the middle. I don't want to pull away but the counter is starting to dig uncomfortably into my hip. As I pull away I place another quick peck on his lips before returning to my seat on the bar stool.

I down the rest of my tea in two gulps, lean over to pick up my purse, and turn to try and locate my shoes. I thought I kicked them off somewhere along the way to the kitchen, but I spot them sitting neatly side by side next to a pair of Peeta's black Vans at the front door. I find it kind of cute, really, how his make mine look like kids shoes by comparison.

"Here, let me wrap these up for you so you can take them home," he says as he takes the plate of cinnamon buns in his hand.

"You don't want them?"

"Katniss, I live above a bakery. I'm sure I'll manage," he jokes as he places the cinnamon buns in a bag.

"Oh, right." I slip into my shoes as he meets me at the door to hand me the bag of treats.

"So, can I still see you Friday night?" he asks innocently.

"Of course, I'll text you after work and let you know what's going on. I'm sure everyone will want to meet up somewhere or something. Sound like a plan?"

"Sounds perfect." He leans in and kisses me again. My arms instinctively wrap around his neck to pull him closer. God, I can't get enough of him! What is he doing to me?

I can feel him smile against my lips before he mumbles, "Don't get me started Katniss. You better leave now or else I might never let you leave."

I plant one last quick kiss on his lips before turning to open the front door and glance back once more to give him a small wave. In return, I'm met with that sexy lop sided grin of his and a small wave.

Damn it. If Peeta won't be end of me, I don't know what will be.

* * *

The rest of my day is pretty uneventful. I stop by the place Boggs suggested to pick up a pair of work boots and a bug jacket. He mentioned I would probably want to get my own unless I wanted to wear one of the communal ones drenched in old bug spray and someone else's BO. Tempting, but no.

Prim's not at home when I get there, but sometime between showering and cleaning out my car, she magically shows up, hovering in the doorway to my room.

"Can I help you with something?" I mutter as I riffle through my drawers looking for a suitable long sleeved shirt to wear to work tomorrow.

"How was your night?" she asks, her voice a little too sarcastic for my liking.

"Fine, Johanna says 'hi'."

"Oh, I know, she called the house this morning looking for you when she said she couldn't reach your cell." She pauses, giving me a knowing look.

I finally come across a dark grey henley and throw it onto my bed as I open the bottom drawer of my dresser to look for a decent pair of work jeans. There's no use lying to Prim at this point but she doesn't have to know all the gory details.

"I stayed over at Peeta's last night. That OK with you?" Her playful laugh elicits a scowl from me as she skips over to my bed and flops down onto her back. I throw a pair of jeans at her face for good measure but she just continues to giggle.

"Totally fine with me," she grins. "So, should I even bother asking how it went?"

"I think you know the answer to that already."

"You're so boring, you know that?"

"Well, I'd be happy to share the details of my love life with you when you decide to tell me about you and Rory, how does that sound?"

I know I've hit a nerve when I see Prim straighten up and her innocent smile flattens into a thin line.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she huffs as she crosses her arms across her chest defensively.

"Uh huh, just what I thought," I tease.

"Whatever, Katniss." She jumps to her feet and storms out of my room and into the hall.

"I love you too, Little Duck!" I call out but the sound of her door slamming causes me to fall into a fit of laughter on my bed. I eventually gather the rest of my clothes and set them out on my dresser for tomorrow along with all the additional things I need to bring with me for my first day at the quarry. Well, fingers crossed!

* * *

I look over at the clock again for the third time. 11:42. Damn it. I've been laying here for almost an hour but I can't seem to fall asleep.

After tucking myself into bed and sending a goodnight text to Peeta, I fell back onto my pillow and closed my eyes, waiting for sleep to claim me but I just couldn't turn off my thoughts. When I teased Prim earlier about Rory, it brought back memories of family gathering with the Hawthorne's from when we were younger.

Gale's father and mine both worked at the quarry and had become quite close friends over the years, which eventually lead to backyard family barbeques at each others houses and a few shared family camping trips. Prim and Rory always got along; being the same age and in the same grade meant that they saw a lot of each other outside of our family gatherings. Because he was two years older than me, we never really crossed paths at school and the age gap always seemed like a bit deal growing up.

He always saw me as a little kid, and it wasn't until we ran into each other again at university that he finally saw me through different eyes. I was no longer the skinny, awkward girl from his childhood and he was no longer the aloof, quiet guy from mines. I didn't even know he went to the same university as me when I enrolled, but I found it somewhat comforting when he started talking to me. As much as I was trying to escape and keep that old life separate, it was nice having someone from home there with me.

Our friendship started out as a few random "hi's" and "how's it going" when we passed each other in the student center, but he quickly turned into my coffee and study break partner. We were both studying engineering, though in different disciplines; he was working towards a civil degree and me environmental. It was nice having someone to complain to about my classes who wasn't actually in any of my classes but still knew enough of my field to have a decent conversation with.

I still remember the night when our friendship crossed the line into a relationship. We decided to go out to the on campus bar after midterms to celebrate. The place was packed and I had been double fisting whisky sours for most of the night since Gale had promised me a whole pizza if could get drunk by not buying myself a single drink that night. As I was on my way to join him and his roommate on the dance floor, triumphantly, with two more free drinks in hand, I was unexpected intercepted.

At first I didn't recognize the guy standing in front of me so I just tried to shimmy around him without spilling my hard earned drinks, but when he caught my waist and leaned in to whisper "hi", recognition immediately hit me. When I turned, my grey eyes met his light blue ones with disgust. Gale watched whole scene go down and when he saw the panicked look on my face, he was at my side in an instant. He pretended to be my boyfriend and thankfully saved me from an awkward situation as he pulled us further onto the dance floor. He downed both of my drinks and before I could thank him. Then, he was behind me, pulling my hips into his groin.

I never made it home that night or the following night, or even the night after that. I only made an appearance back at my room during the day to pick up fresh clothes and my class notes. After that night, nothing was ever the same between us.

The memories of Gale don't help with my current state of insomnia. I roll over onto my stomach and burry my face into my pillow, willing my mind to just give it a break and let me get some much needed sleep. If only I was over at Peeta's, in his bed, wrapped up in his duvet…damn, that was the best sleep I'd had in ages. I sigh in frustration…if only.

* * *

"So, here's where you desk is," Maysilee says cheerfully as she lead me to a grey cubicle that's been set up in one of the rooms upstairs of the old farm house. "You'll be in here with the two other summer students, one I'm told you go to school with. Wouldn't that be nice to know someone already?"

Yeah, lucky me. When I showed up this morning at exactly 7:30 on the dot, I found that I was the first to arrive. I'm surprised at my punctuality given the lack of sleep I got last night and my rush to get out the door. I had to eat my bagel in the car and I didn't have time to get my morning tea. Things were off to a great start, and the fact that Haymitch apparently hadn't even arrived yet was the icing on the cake. So much for his threat to show up on time.

Thankfully, Maysilee took it upon herself to get me settled in and show me around. I place my purse and work boots on the floor under my desk and quickly grab my phone before following Maysilee to the lunch room where she shows me how to use the coffee machine and the hot water feature. After happily helping myself to a large mug of tea, she says she needs to get back to the phones and I make my way back up the stairs.

Once at the top of the stairs, I quickly pop my head into Haymitch's office but frown when I find it still dark and empty. I carefully place my mug on my desk and pull my phone out from my back pocket before sitting down. I notice I have a text message from Peeta.

Peeta: Good luck today babe, hope you have a great first day!

I smile dumbly back at the screen before typing him back a quick thank you. I've never really been one for cute little messages, but coming from Peeta I feel as though I can make an acceptation. He's just so damn sweet. I finally put my phone away and turn on my computer to attempt to get my email account set up.

As I wait for the ancient machine to start up, I flip through the stack of papers I need to fill out and the safety handbook I need to read and sign off on before I can actually step foot into the quarry. I'm three quarters of the way into the first page when I hear Maysilee's voice again coming from the hallway followed by two other sets of footsteps. I consider poking my head out from my cubicle to assess my fellow peers, but decide against it and stay hidden behind the wall and try to continue reading.

"So, this is where the two of you will be sitting, there's a desk for each of you," Maysilee says as I hear the other two sets of footsteps draw closer. "Oh, and our other summer student is already here. Let me introduce you. Katniss? Are you there?"

I take a deep breath and force a smile as I stand up to look over the cubicle wall. My eyes widen and I'm frozen in place. Shit. You've got to be kidding me! My eyes lock with his light blue eyes and I can feel bile starting to inch up the back of my throat.

"Katniss Everdeen," he says with a smirk as he leans against the cubicle wall.

"Oh yes, you two know each other already, good!" Maysilee chirps. "Well, I'll leave you all to get settled then, Haymitch and Chaff should be here shortly to get you started." She hurries out of the room and down the stairs where I can hear the phone ringing.

I finally look over to the other guy, hoping he'll be the one I work with. He has dark hair and dark, mocha skin and as he peers back at me through his glasses, he gives me a warm smile and a wave.

"Hi, I'm Beetee. I'm here to help out with electrical and programming and I'm going to be working with Chaff, how about you?"

I quickly glance back over to the light blue eyes that are still staring back at me and try not to cringe before looking back to Beetee.

"Environmental and I'm with Haymitch," I answer, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Oh, so you two are both going to be working with Haymitch then, that's awesome!" Beetee says enthusiastically.

I'm sure the look on my face isn't mirroring the same enthusiasm as Beetee's and I actually have a few other choice words to better describe how I'm feeling about this working arrangement. As if sensing the tension in the room, he tries to move the conversation along.

"So," he says as he takes a seat at his desk and immediately starts up his computer, which looks like it's a decade newer than mine. "How do you guys know each other?"

I'm about to answer him with a biting remark when I'm interrupted.

"Oh, Katniss and I know each other quite well, don't we?" he says with a depraved grin. "We're in the same class actually, but let's just say we've had the chance to get to know each quite intimately."

Beetee whips his head up and looks between the two of us awkwardly before turning back to his computer again. He mumbles an uncomfortable "oh" and buries his head below his monitor.

Damn it, Gloss. Damn you.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Hello ghost number two, we'll find out more about you in the next chapter! So, this chapter may or may not have been influenced by Taylor Swift's I Knew You Were Trouble, every time I got in the car this week it seemed to be playing, so yeah, that's that.

I'd like to give a really big thank you to my new beta, _**JenieZee**_, for helping me turn my ramblings into coherent sentences. Also, thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed, and favorited! You really do make my day! I did notice that the last chapter got less traffic than earlier ones so I hope I didn't scare people off with my smut, or worse, let you all down. If there's something you don't like or want to see more of, please let me know!

Visit me on tumblr (pookieh)!

Thanks!


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** This fanfic is rated 'M' for language and sexual content. I do not own any of the characters of The Hunger Games.

* * *

**Chapter 15: Call Me!**

Gloss peers over the half wall that separates our desks with a smart ass smirk that makes me cringe. The color of the drab walls is a shade I've deemed as Battleship Gray, like my current mood. I purposefully rest my chin on my hand so as to shift and hide my face behind my computer screen, pretending that I'm actually doing something important. Thankfully, Haymitch decides to make his appearance shortly after Maysilee left me with these two.

"You two," he grunts, as he points to Gloss and me, "in my office now."

I jump from my chair and almost trip over my feet as I try to snake by Gloss, putting as much distance between us as possible. Beetee gives me another sympathetic smile as I rush by him and into the hallway after Haymitch.

"So eager," Haymitch laughs as I rush into his office and plop down into the furthest chair from the door. Gloss saunters in seconds later and coolly sits back in the other empty seat, weaving his fingers and placing them behind his head. I can see Haymitch's eyes narrow slightly because I'm sure he's already catching on to Gloss' self-centered and overly confident attitude.

Haymitch goes into the typical new employee speech and we discuss in more detail what we will actually be doing this summer. Turns out, I'm actually really excited about what my job entails, except for the fact that because we'll be working over open water, company policy states that we need to work in groups of two for safety reasons. I frown in response but I see Gloss smiling happily at me. Ugh.

I try to make myself scarce for the rest of the morning by reading my employee manual cover to cover and by visiting Boggs down in the equipment room to get familiar with the equipment that I'll be expected to work with on my own. It isn't until lunchtime that things really start to take a turn for the worse.

My father said it wouldn't make sense to try and sneak out for lunch given that most of the staff only takes thirty minute lunch breaks, so I decided to pack a sandwich and instead of eating at my desk, I make my way to the small lunchroom downstairs.

When I open the door, it's empty, thank god. There's a copy of the local paper sitting on one of the tables. I throw my phone down and pull out a chair as I dig into my lunch and flip through the pages to find the comics. I hear the door squeak open and look up briefly to see Beetee walk in with a microwaveable lunch. He sticks it into the ancient looking dial knob contraption and turns to me as he waits for his lunch to heat up.

"So, Haymitch looks like an interesting character," he says with a grin.

I look up from the comics again and chew a few more times before swallowing. I can't help but frown at the thought of Haymitch. "Yeah, he'll be interesting, that's for sure." I don't mean to sound short, but I'm not really one for small talk so I take another bite of my sandwich and look back down to the paper.

"Oh, while you were down with Boggs earlier, you missed the other new guy. He's a few years older than us but he's going to be working with the facilities people out at the pump house. Sounds like a sweet setup they've got over there."

"Mmm hmm," I reply, not looking up as I take another bite from my sandwich.

The door squeaks open again and this time I hear the footsteps of two other people, I'm assuming one is Gloss so I'm definitely not going to look up. Maybe eating at my desk would have been a better idea; this is turning out to be one big social gathering and I'd rather enjoy my free time alone. I finish off the last bite of my sandwich and grab my water bottle after folding the newspaper back up but before I can stand up from my seat, someone throws an apple down on the table across from where I'm seated.

"There she is," Gloss says, in what I think is supposed to be a playful voice, but it just sounds so wrong coming out of his mouth. "Look who I found wandering the halls, your boyfriend!"

What the fuck? I suddenly whip my head around towards the door, wondering why Peeta would be here but it's not his blue eyes that I find, it's those steel grey ones that meet mine instead. I stare back at him. I'm not sure how long I sit there with my mouth open, but I've lost my ability to speak.

I've somehow found myself in the twilight zone because standing before me is Gloss, the one and only one night stand I've ever had and by far my biggest mistake ever, and Gale, the only real relationship I've ever had that ended awkwardly and who just so happens to be my second biggest mistake. As if the situation couldn't be further complicated, my phone vibrates and when I quickly look down there's a text from Peeta asking how my day is going so far. Shit. Double shit. Triple shit.

I can feel my blood pressure rising as my fingers curl up into tight fist around my phone. Like a cornered and wounded animal, anxiety sets in and I go into full defense mode. How am I going to get out of this one? Oh shit, Gale must be who Beetee was talking about. He's working here too! Why the fuck didn't he say anything! I curse under my breath when I realize that's probably what he wanted to talk to me about earlier.

"Hey, Catnip," Gale says with a smirk.

I greet him with a scowl before responding. "What the fuck Gale? What are you doing here?" Only when the words leave my mouth do I remember I am in a professional work place. I need to get my temper under control and get the hell out of here before I say something that could get me fired.

"I work here," he says coolly. "And if you had only responded to my texts then this wouldn't have been such a surprise."

I blink at him a few times before letting out a loud huff but before I can respond with a snide remark, I'm rudely interrupted.

"Whoa there now, I thought you two were dating?" Gloss pipes in, unexpectedly.

Gloss was there that night at the bar when I first went home with Gale. He was who Gale saved me from on the dance floor when he stepped in, pretending to be my boyfriend, so of course he'd assume we were still together.

"Dated," I respond quickly, "past tense."

"Right," Gloss answers sarcastically, drawing out the word for a few seconds. "Well, maybe you two need to take this somewhere a little more private then?"

The smirk on Gloss' face is just asking to be introduced to my first but I know better. Suddenly, the lunchroom door squeaks open again and everyone freezes. I had almost forgotten that Beetee was still in here. He's just staring at us, watching from his front seat at our real life soap opera. For once I'm relieved when I see Haymitch stroll in through the doorway chewing on a paper coffee cup and humming loudly to himself.

He slows and looks at the scene before him, taking in our faces that range from anger, frustration, awkwardness, and sheer amusement. "Am I interrupting something here?" he asks as he sets his paper coffee cup under the spout of the machine, pressing a combination of buttons before the large machine surges to life.

We all just stare back at him for a few seconds and then I'm first to move. I grab the rest of my stuff off the table before mumbling a quick "no" and push my way past Gale and Gloss to the door. Once out into the hallway, I have to keep myself from sprinting back up the stairs. I hear someone behind me and quicken my steps.

"Running somewhere, Sweetheart?" Haymitch calls out.

"No, just going back to my desk," I answer as calmly as I can.

"Right, so I just imagined all that tension back there. Do we need to talk about this?"

I let out an annoyed sigh as I continue up the stairs, each step squeaking as I go. When did Haymitch become Mr. Talkative? He's the last person I'd want to talk to about any of this.

"No, it's fine," I mutter once I get to the top of the stairs.

"You're sure now? I don't know what's going on, and I'm not sure if I really want to know the details either, but if your working arrangement with Gloss is going to be a problem, let me know now so we can figure something out."

I sigh deeply. The last thing I need is to blow this situation out of proportion and sound like a whiney newbie on my first day. Gloss, I can handle. Gale, however…that might take more effort. Haymitch didn't mention anything earlier about me having to work with Gale, so maybe if I'm lucky we won't have to cross paths. Although, if we're all expected to eat together, the events in the lunch room today might become a common occurrence. Damn it! I can't stand the thought of having to sit through thirty minutes of their presence during my lunches for the rest of the summer, but what choice do I have? Maybe, I hope, we'll be away and outside most days and won't have time to return back to the office for lunch. Fingers crossed this is the case.

"It's nothing I can't handle," I answer, finally meeting Haymitch's eyes and trying to portray confidence in my response.

He looks at me wearily for a second before letting out a low grunt, "Fine, but if this gets too out of hand, you better let me know, you hear?"

"Yeah, I hear."

I muster up the best smile I can before I hurry back to my desk where I flop down into my chair and pull out my phone. I should message Peeta back, but what should I say? If I say my day is going well I'd be lying, but if I say my worlds are colliding and I need to get out of here, he'll just ask me why and this is something I don't want to discuss over text. I'll just keep silent for now, I guess.

During our meeting this morning, Haymitch mentioned that we needed to complete a whack load of online training before we could actually go out and start doing anything interesting in the quarry, so I decide to get it out of the way. I pull out my headphones to plug into my computer. I'm glad I got here first this morning so I was able to get first dibs on desks. The one I choose actually has a window and it's tucked in the back where no one can bother me. Thankfully, the rest of the afternoon is uninterrupted and I'm able to get through almost all of my online training sessions, although I might have nodded off a few times halfway through one of them.

After a few hours, my eyes keep wandering to the bottom right hand corner of my screen as I watch the minutes roll by. I breathe a sigh of relief when four-thirty finally rolls around and I pack up my things to call it a day. Thank god it's Friday and I only had to endure one day of this. Hopefully I'll be able to get my shit together over the weekend and mentally prepare for next week…and the weeks to come. I glance around my desk one last time to make sure I don't forget something before turning my computer off, but when I look up again I'm startled to find Gloss peering over the cubicle wall at me.

"So, a few of us were planning on going out to Phil's for drinks later tonight. Since we're all going to be working so closely, might as well get to know each other better. I guess in our case though, reacquaint might be more like it," he grins with a wink.

Ugh, could he be any more of a creep? This guy really needs to catch a clue already. How many times do I have to turn him down?

"Thanks, but no thanks, I've already got plans," I mumble, as I step out from my desk and shuffle by him quickly.

"Well I hope you change your mind! Call me!" he shouts. I stick up my middle finger, stomp down the stairs and fly out the door.

* * *

"So who's Mr. Popped Collar over there eyeing you up?" Johanna says as she nods towards the front of the bar.

I turn my head discretely and curse under my breath, "Fuck." I whip my head back around and shut my eyes hoping that when I reopen them he'll magically disappear.

It was Johanna's idea to come out to Louie's tonight and for some reason I gave myself false hope that we'd be safe here. There are only a handful of places to go out for drinks in our small town, so I guess it was inevitable that we'd eventually run into them tonight.

"Friend of yours, then?" she grins, amused by my reaction and I can tell she thinks tonight will be way more interesting than she expected. "Although, by the way he's eye fucking you right now, I think Preppy over there would like to be more than just friends."

"He goes to my school..." I hold up my finger, motioning for Johanna to wait a second, as I down my shot in one gulp, hoping that the alcohol kicks in soon to settle my nerves. I shake my head before continuing, "and I'm working with him at the quarry for the summer...oh and Gale too."

Johanna leans forward as she grasps the edge of the bar to brace herself as the sip of whisky she just took comes shooting out of her nose. "What?" she shrieks, her eyes wide with shock for a split second before she bursts out laughing. "Oh joy, that should make things fun," she laughs as she jabs me in the ribs, wiggling her eyebrows as me. "Once you get past the whole preppy look, he's not too hard on the eyes, actually." Johanna's face breaks out into a devilish grin.

I can only imagine what she's doing to him in that dirty mind of hers. Last time I checked in, Johanna hadn't been with anyone in months. So I'm sure it's about time for her to jump back on the horse and wrangle herself a new stud to string along for awhile.

"Trust me, you're not missing out on much."

It takes a second for her to register my words. "You did _not_! Him? Really? Well fuck me sideways then!"

"No thanks, I'm good," I joke, trying to smile.

"Seriously though, did you guys…date? Or was it more of a casual fucking arrangement."

"Johanna!"

"What, it's an honest question!" she protests as she throws her hands up into the air.

"Ugh, no, it wasn't a serious thing. We hooked up one night, that's all."

"One night stand?" she gasps in disbelief. "I like it!"

"Shhhh! It wasn't like that!"

"Oh, so when did they redefine fucking someone one night and then not having a relationship afterwards?"

"Fine, you can call it what you want…just drop it, please," I hiss as I glace over to the clock above the bar. Thank god, it's almost nine so Peeta should be here soon. I've been checking the time every two seconds for the past half hour because after the day I had today, all I want to do is see Peeta and lose myself in the happy little bubble I've formed with him.

"So what's his name, anyway? Or should I continue to call him Preppy?" Johanna asks as she looks back at him with her best attempt at bedroom eyes.

"Oh please," I laugh and I hesitate before answering. "His name's…Gloss." I palm my face in embarrassment.

"His name is _what_?"

"Gloss."

"Like…like lip gloss?"

"Yeah, like lip gloss," I say with a frown. "It's not his real name if that's what you're wondering. His name is actually Glasynys, its Welsh or something like that. People just call him Gloss for short, don't ask me why."

"Ohhhh, Welsh, I've always liked the Braveheart type,"

"Jo, the guy from Braveheart was Scottish, not Welsh." I roll my eyes in response before flagging the bartender down to order another drink.

"Oh whatever. Same shit, different pile," she says dismissively. "I don't need a history lesson right now. What I really need is for you to make me an introduction!"

"I don't think he's your type."

"Well, I never pegged you to go for the preppy type either."

"I don't…normally." I try to hide my annoyance but Johanna can see right through me.

"Then how did that even happen?"

"I don't know…let's just say it was due to the influence of one too many whisky sours and a minor lapse in judgment, I guess."

"Yeah, whatever, you can't blame everything on the alcohol. Anyway, so who's the blonde with him? They look like they could be twins."

I turn back to the front of the bar to see a slim, busty blonde in six inch heels lean over to give Gloss a peck on the cheek. What the hell is she doing here? Gloss swipes the back of his hand against his cheek, trying to wipe off the lipstick she's left behind and I can't help but let out a frustrated groan.

"That's his sister Cashmere and yeah, they're twins alright."

"Is that another nickname?"

I shake my head in response as I turn back to take the drink the bartender has placed in front of me and take a sip.

"Oh, well, sucks to be her then," Johanna laughs as she downs another shot.

"Shouldn't you pace yourself? We've only been here for half an hour and that's what? Your fourth?"

"Fifth."

I frown back at her in disapproval before my eyes flit back over to Gloss and Cashmere, who have just happened to find an empty booth right next to the one that Finnick found for our group. Him and Annie are seated across from each other and appear to be deep in conversation. Well, at least some people are having a good time. It's then that I notice Cashmere's pointed death stare as she mouths something to her brother, her eyes never leaving mine.

Thankfully, my phone vibrates in my back pocket, breaking our staring match. It's Peeta and he says he's running late. Something about a late delivery at the bakery and that he still has to run up to his apartment first to shower. I let out an annoyed huff as I shove my phone back in my pocket.

I need him here now. We need to talk so I can warn him about Gloss and the whole work situation with him and Gale. I'm a little worried about how he'll react but what can I to do about it? I didn't ask for this to happen!

"So are you gonna tell Peeta about your little…um…love triangle at work?"

"There is no love triangle," I respond, coldly.

She just laughs, obviously unsympathetic to my situation. "Come on, you have to find this all a _little_ funny. You've got your own first wives club going on over there!"

"What?" I gasp as I turn to look back at their booth.

Just fucking perfect. Gale and Beetee have joined the twins at their booth. I quickly turn back to face the bar and drop my head to rest it on the slightly sticky surface. I can't shake the feeling that they're all staring at me and talking shit about me behind my back. I'm probably being dramatic, though. The world doesn't revolve around me and they probably have better things to talk about, like why Cashmere is even here to begin with?

I've only ever once interacted with her, and it's not an experience I'd like to repeat. It was shortly after Gloss and I had hooked up, I guess he had spilled the beans to her about me and she must have gotten the wrong idea and impression of me. One afternoon, I found her standing outside my classroom, apparently waiting for me. I didn't know who she was at first but it wasn't hard to guess after a second look that she was Gloss' sister. I vaguely recalled him saying that he had a sister who went to our school but was in finance. Anyway, she decided to tear me a new one right out in the middle of the hallway, spewing insults my way like they were going out of style. She was obviously really pissed because I was only able to catch some of what she was saying. Her voice jumped an octave not a minute into her rant and her face turned a shade of red I'd never seen before.

The gist of her rant was that I was a bitch for leading her brother on. I didn't deserve him anyway and I deserved to rot in the seven circles of hell. I stopped listening at one point but I was too mortified to move or say anything so her insults just continued to wash over me. She eventually got frustrated enough with me, probably due to my silence, and stomped off down the hall like a lunatic.

It was then that I realized a crowd had gathered around us and standing in the back was Gloss, looking both confused and pissed. I got the feeling that he wasn't expecting his sister to carry on the way she did and I think he was almost as embarrassed as I was.

A few days later he tried to corner me a few times after class until I finally gave in and just decided to get it over with. He apologized profusely and said that he didn't put her up to it. He was hoping that we could put it behind us and start over. There was no way that was going to happen so I had to flat out reject him this time around. I thought he'd taken the hint after that but I couldn't help but feel that he took my rejection as a challenge.

"Oh stop worrying, I'm just fucking kidding with you! We should check back in with Finnick and Annie though, hopefully he's asked her out by now," Johanna says, taking her drink in hand while nudging me with the heel of her boot.

I grit my teeth as I grip my glass and we make our way through the crowd back to our booth in the back. I duck my head the closer we get there, hoping to arrive undetected. As I sneak into the empty seat next to Annie, I let out a sigh of relief but its short-lived because not a second later, Gale and Gloss appear at the end of our table, beers in hand.

"Hey man!" Finnick shouts to Gale, who only nods his head back in return. "What are you doing out? Not really your scene, is it?"

Gale shrugs back, his eye's slightly glazed over. Gale's not really the "social" type and prefers the low key places like Phil's but Louie's is the complete opposite, with music pumping away and sweaty bodies jumping around on the dance floor. We always had to get him drunk beforehand at school to get him to go out anywhere like this, so I'm surprised too that he's actually here. They must have gotten him buzzed over at Phil's before heading here.

Gloss decides he's been ignored long enough and breaks into the conversation. "It took some convincing but I got him here. I'm Gloss by the way." He smiles and sticks out his hand to Finnick, who cautiously shakes it before Gloss turns his gaze to Annie. "And who would this pretty lady be?"

Annie smiles back politely but I'm sure I can see Finnick's pupils dilate as he straightens his back and turns his body to face Gloss. God, there's way too much testosterone flying around here right now. At least the attention's not on me for once!

"The pretty lady would be Annie and the name's Finnick," he says calmly but I can tell by the look on his face that he's straining to keep his cool.

Sensing the tension that's starting to build, Gales lifts his hand and pats Gloss on the back. "Finnick is a good friend of mine and Gloss here's working at the quarry with Katniss and me," he says with a smirk.

I try to shrink back into my seat at the mention of my name but all eyes go to me. I manage a fake smile as I nod in response but I'm cringing on the inside.

"Anyway, Gloss and I got to talking and it turns out we had a lot to talk about," Gale says suggestively, his eyes flashing to mine for an instant. I'm sure you fucking did, Hawthorne. I'm sure you fucking did.

"Turns out that we've got ourselves a little club going on over here!" Gloss laughs and looks to me as he raises an eyebrow. "You know, just a collection of Katniss' leftovers!" Gloss slurs, lifting his bottle as if making a toast to the table.

"Hey Preppy. I know I just met you, but how about you shut the fuck up already," Finnick snarls, peeling at the label of his empty bottle.

"Whoa there, just having a little fun, that's all!" Gloss laughs, lifting his arms up defensively and taking a step back.

It's then that I see from the corner of my eye his unmistakable blonde hair in the crowd. Thank god! I have to keep from jumping out of my seat.

"Peeta!" Finnick hollers as everyone turns to him. Most of the faces he's met with are smiling and welcoming but the two at the end of the table barely acknowledge him.

"Hey, sorry I'm late guys. What'd I miss?" he asks as he runs a hand through his damp hair in an attempt to push some of it out of his face but it just falls back stubbornly. He stands next to me and wraps an arm around my shoulder before leaning down to place a soft kiss in my hair. He turns to Gale and Gloss and smiles back at them politely.

"Hey Gale," he says before sticking his free hand out to Gloss, "I don't think we've met. I'm Peeta."

"Gloss," he says in a deep voice and I'm not sure if he meant for it to come out that way because it definitely doesn't sound like him. God, what's with these guys? He looks Peeta straight in the eye as he takes his hand and I can see him grip it tightly as if he's trying to leaving an impression. "Nice to meet you." He releases his grip and turns to me. "Katniss, so is this the new guy?"

My eyes widen at Gloss' brazen question and I'm too shocked and frustrated to formulate a response.

"Yeah, that's me," Peeta smiles back, squeezing my shoulder lightly. Thank god one of us is good with words, I'm terrible at this. "So how do you two know each other?"

"We work together," Gloss responds matter-of-factly and I can tell he's trying to intimidate Peeta with his tone and body language.

"And they dated," Cashmere throws in, as she unexpectedly pops out from behind their booth with a smartass grin. She stands up and situates herself between Gale and Gloss, draping her arms around both their necks, trying to bring everyone's attention to the center of her low cut shirt. Seriously? I shoot her a pointed stare for her interruption and blatant lie but before I can try to explain myself to Peeta, he squeezes my side and just smiles back at them.

"Well nice meeting you," he says calmly. God, he's a much better person than me. How does he keep is cool like that? "Now if you'll excuse us, I'd like to dance with my girlfriend, ready babe?"

He takes my hand to help me up from my seat and gently leads us to the dance floor. I'm thankful that the music has changed to a slower tune so I don't have to actually do anything but put my arms around Peeta and move in circles.

"Thank you," I whisper as he wraps his arms around my waist, his hands resting low on my back, just above the waistband of my jeans. He starts to rub slow circles into the small of my back in time with the rhythm of the song before he places a soft kiss on my forehead.

"You're welcome. I take it you had an interesting day then?"

I look at him sheepishly knowing full well that I need to explain myself. I open my mouth to begin the speech that I've been planning but Peeta's lips are on mine before I can answer.

"Later, I just want to enjoy my girlfriend right now. Is that OK?" He flashes me his trademark grin as he looks down at me through his incredibly long eyelashes.

Damn it, how can he be so calm right now? The tension at the table was apparent you'd have to be dead not to feel it. I let out a frustrated huff.

"How are you so calm and collected right now? You know, with all that happened back there?" My voice sounds clipped because the whole work situation is actually starting to stress me out. I know for certain that if our roles were reversed right now I'd be seething; my jealousy is something I'm not too proud of but I just can't help it sometimes. He just shrugs before briefly looking back to our booth.

"Don't look now, but we have an audience. You know, it's OK to pretend that you're madly in love with me. So it's alright to kiss me anytime you feel like it," he whispers as he leans in closer, his lips barely touching my earlobe.

The feel of his warm breath and the slight contact from his lips causes a surge of heat to run through me and my heart begins to race. Fuck. Does he know what he does to me? From the grin on his face I'm a hundred percent sure he does. I wish I could do that. Hmm. Maybe I do?

To test out my theory, I slowly drag one of my hands down from the back of his neck, down his tight chest, and stop at the spot over his heart. I can feel the steady beat under my palm and I meet his gaze once more before leaning in and catching his lips in a heated kiss.

I pour all my frustration and worry from earlier today into the kiss and I can feel the hum of his lips as he groans into my mouth. He pulls me into him until our hips meet and I can feel something starting to stir down there in his jeans. Just as I had hoped, his heartbeat has picked up speed and is starting to race underneath my palm. I grin happily to myself as he slowly pulls away.

"What?" he smiles before pressing light kisses into the side of my neck.

"Nothing," I grin, happy and oblivious to the world around us. At least for a little while.

* * *

**Author's Note:** First off, sorry about the long delay, real life tends to creep in once in awhile keeping me from writing. So, things are going to get a little heated again next chapter…as if you couldn't tell ;) More about Katniss' one night stand with Gloss and a glimpse at a jealous Katniss, yay!

Thanks to my beta, _**JenieZee**_, for all her help with this chapter! Also, thank you to everyone who has kept with me so far and to those who have followed and favorited! Don't be shy and please leave a review, I love hearing from you!

Come and visit me on tumblr (pookieh)!


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer:** This fanfic is rated 'M' for language and sexual content. I do not own any of the characters of The Hunger Games.

* * *

**Chapter 16: In All Honesty**

I stare back at my reflection in the mirror and my ears ring slightly from the thumping of the bass outside. The overhead fluorescent lights aren't doing much for my complexion right now and the dark circles under my eyes are becoming more noticeable. The longer I stare into the mirror the more I start to notice the blotchiness of my skin and the redness of my eyes. The past few nights of restless sleep have started to take a toll on me. I splash some cold water on my face in an attempt to freshen up my face a bit, but who am I kidding, it's no use.

The bathroom door squeaks open as I turn off the tap and a group girls that are clearly drunk stumble in, tripping over themselves and giggling as they each find a stall. I secretly envy them because I wish I were that carefree right now. Before the door closes, I catch sight of a familiar head of auburn hair and I'm relieved when I'm met with Annie's sweet smile.

"Hey Annie, how's it going back out there?"

She chuckles lightly as she shakes her head. "Oh, you know, the usual when there's one too many roosters in the henhouse."

I can only imagine what's going on right now with my past and present love lives colliding and all cramped in one booth. At least Finnick, Annie, and Jo are there to help balance things out. I was hoping that when Peeta and I returned from the dance floor though, that the quarry crowd would have retreated back to their booth to leave us in peace. Instead, I decided to play the avoidance game and high-tailed it to the bathroom where I've been hiding out ever since.

"So," Annie says as she looks in the mirror and reapplies some gloss to her lips, "interesting group of people you have there at the quarry."

"Yeah, tell me about it. Didn't really see that coming when I woke up this morning."

"Oh? So you weren't aware that you were going to be working with those two then?"

"Oh god no! If I'd known, I might have reconsidered asking my father to help me get the job. I guess I shouldn't be complaining though. I'll figure it out. But I'm not sure why Gloss' sister is here, I was pretty sure he said they lived in the city. She just seems a little out of place here."

"Well, while you were hiding out in here, Gloss said something about how they're staying at their uncle's cottage for the summer. It's the one up at Capitol Lake. You know, that huge one right on the lake?"

"His…his uncle?" I stammer as I look back at Annie through the mirror with wide eyes.

Shit.

Anyone who is anyone in town has heard about Snow's cottage. Although "cottage" is a bit of an understatement. It's a full on gated complex. The large cement structure is an architectural marvel apparently, complete with an indoor infinity pool, that was designed and installed by Finnick's family; it even has a helicopter pad on the roof. I don't know anyone who's been inside, but the local paper has printed quite a few articles and pictures of the place before so we all have an idea of what it's like.

Coriolanus Snow was recently elected CEO of Panem Aggregates after spending years on the board of directors. It was all over the newspaper headlines because apparently no one saw it coming. It was reported that the former CEO mysteriously "stepped down" which only fueled the rumor mill of Snow's already notorious reputation for being "cut-throat" and "callous".

On more than one occasion, my father had a few choice words to describe Snow while at the dinner table, which always ended with my father working himself up so much that he'd leave the room in a fit. He used to go on about how Snow was trying to radically change policies that had been in place for decades, especially in the safety and training departments, in an attempt to cut operating costs and increase revenue. From the portrait my father has painted, Snow seems to be a pretty shady character and now knowing that Gloss and Cashmere are related to him, I can see it may be a family trait.

So does this mean I have to be extra careful around Gloss at work? Fuck. What if I step out of line or accidentally run my mouth about Snow and Gloss ends up telling his uncle? I could get fired; or worse, what if my father suffers the repercussions too? I wouldn't put it past Snow.

My eyes feel dry and my head starts to throb. I rub my face with my palms a few times to try to wipe away the added stress from this new bit of information from my mind. At least for now. I'll try to process and, hopefully, deal with it all later.

"So Annie, how have you been lately?" I ask sincerely but also in an attempt to change the subject. "I feel like I haven't talked to you in ages. We really need to catch up over coffee or something."

"Oh, not much. Just the usual." She returns her lip gloss to her purse and smoothes down her naturally wavy hair. I watch her and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a tad bit envious of Annie's natural and effortless beauty. She reaches into her purse again and pulls out a compact. "Here, let me help."

Help me with what? I scrunch my nose up in confusion as she opens the lid and dabs a cotton pad into some sort of loose powder. She reaches out and lightly touches it to the blotchy parts of my face. When she's done I check myself out in the mirror and I'm actually amazed at how much brighter my face looks.

"What is that stuff? And why don't I have any of it?"

Annie giggles. "It's just loose powder, Katniss. You can get it anywhere."

"Huh," I say as I lean closer to the mirror to inspect my face. Now if only I had some eye drops to deal with the redness of my eyes.

"And yes," she says, clasping the compact closed with a click, "about your coffee offer, we really do need to catch up. I'd love that." She's quiet for a few seconds before I notice her chewing on her lip and fidgeting with the strap of her purse.

"Is everything alright? You look…nervous. Is something wrong?"

I fully expect her to prattle on about a new potential breakthrough with Finnick, but her face hovers between a look fright and that of relief.

"I uh…this is kind of random, but I really need to get this off my chest. I'm uh…I'm actually thinking of deferring next year from school."

"What?" I say with utter confusion and shock written all over my face. "I mean…I guess I just thought you liked what you're studying. What happened? If you don't mind me asking, that is," I try to say without sounding too nosey. She did bring up the subject, after all.

Annie applied to the local college to study early childhood development and education, a perfect fit in my mind for her calm and patient nature. I always thought she was amazing with kids and loved working with them.

"It's alright. I actually really enjoy my program. I just need…a break. I definitely plan on going back, of course."

Huh, I never thought that would be a move that Annie would make. Johanna maybe or even Madge. I remember them both wanting to take a year off to travel the world, but neither of them followed through with it.

I'm about to press her further as to what sparked her sudden change in plans, but the drunk girls from before all burst out of their stalls and interrupt us at the sinks. I look back at Annie but the look of uncertainty she had before is now gone and she's smiling shyly again.

"Well, I guess we should get back out there," she says as she reaches out and squeezes my shoulder encouragingly.

"Yeah, you're right, but how about I stop by the bar first. I'm going to need another drink I'm sure. You want anything?"

"Uh, just water please, thanks."

"Sure, can do. Always the responsible one, aren't you," I laugh, but when I look over my shoulder back at Annie, something seems…off. Maybe my lack of sleep and the ever-present fog that has settled over my mind is making me over-analyze things. Deciding to brush it off, I give her a quick wave as we split off and I make a beeline to the bar.

* * *

I squeeze my way through the crowd huddled around the bar and, for once, I'm actually thankful for my small stature as I weave my way to the front. I lean forward and rest my elbows on the edge as I try to catch the attention of one of the bartenders. Thankfully, I spot Darius working behind the bar tonight so I flag him down with a wave and a smile. He greets me with a huge grin that makes his dimples show as he wipes his hands off onto the towel slung across his shoulder.

"Katniss Everdeen…well aren't you a sight for sore eyes!" he says cheerfully.

"Hey Darius, good to see you too. It's definitely been awhile. Care to hook a girl up with a drink?"

"Anything for you, love," he says with a wink. "What'll it be?"

"Whisky sour…thanks. Oh! And a bottle of water please."

Darius pats my hand gently before he turns to get to my drink together. As I wait, I look around me and realize that a few of the girls are giving me the stink eye. Whatever.

Darius and I, we go way back. He lived down the street from us growing up and he used to watch Prim and I after school before our parents got home from work. We got along even after he stopped babysitting us, which I found surprising at first because he was six years older than me. When it was raining out and on really cold days, he would drive us to school in his old mustang that he and his dad restored. He was kind of the older brother we never had. And to top it off, he's a good looking guy, so it's no wonder I get the looks I get when he talks to me. I'm sure they're all thinking, "really? Why her?"

Eventually, my eyes naturally flit across the room, back over to our booth in search of Peeta. It's like I've got an internal compass now that is always searching out his location when he's around. I never used to be this way before, but that could also be because I've never had a relationship like _this_ before.

When I spot him he doesn't see me, but my muscles tighten when I spot him and my hands ball up into fists. He's sitting back casually, nursing a beer, but next to him is Glimmer, leaning in a little too close for my liking, with a Cheshire cat grin on her face. I look down at my hands, only then realizing that I've been clenching my fists and my knuckles are starting to turn white.

What is wrong with me? Why is this bothering me so much? They're just talking…nothing to get all worked up over. I promised myself that I'd try to not be the "jealous girlfriend" this time around because, well, worrying about other women admiring my boyfriend won't accomplish anything, really. That's what I get for jumping head first into a relationship with a popular and sexy as hell kind of guy like Peeta. I guess it just comes with the territory and I'll have to get over it.

I look back over again and try to take the high road, not letting it get to me, but then I see Glimmer lean in, inches from Peeta's face, whispering something in his ear. His face reddens slightly as he lets out a laugh. I'm not sure if he's genuinely amused or if he's just being nice because he's really good at playing polite in public. He takes another long sip from his beer, all the while Glimmer giggles next to him. Then, she places a hand on his forearm that's resting on the table. What. The. Fuck. I draw the line at physical contact. So much for taking the high road.

It's then his eyes finally cross paths with mine and I can't help but glare back at him. His face twists in confusion for a second before he straightens up and turns to Finnick, who's on the other side of him, appearing to be talking energetically with his hands. Glimmer looks unfazed by the sudden snub from Peeta but then she looks up and sees me staring at her. She gives me a bitchy smirk and sticks her tongue out at me. Really? Did that just happen?

"Who's Barbie over there?" Darius asks as he nods in the direction of my booth. "I don't think I've seen her around town before." He places a napkin in front of me followed by my drink and a bottle of water.

"No one worth your time or mine, trust me."

Darius laughs but I'm not sure he believes me. As kind and caring Darius was to us, he had a reputation of being a bit of a player, so I'm sure he's sizing Glimmer up, even if he's pretending not to be interested. I go to hand him a ten dollar bill, but he just brushes me off. "Your money is no good with me."

"You sure?" He just nods and laughs before turning to the guy next to me to take his order. "Thanks," I shout before I'm shooed away by the other thirsty patrons.

I take my time getting back to our booth by taking a zig zag path across the dance floor, trying to avoid spilling my drink as sweaty bodies jump and flail around me. It's almost like a game and before I know it, I've already finished my drink. I ditch the empty glass on a random table and sneak a peek back over to the booth. This time, I notice that Gloss is missing. This should make me breathe easier, but it doesn't; instead it puts me on edge. Jo is missing too.

That damned girl. She never listens to me when she needs to. Well, I warned her, but if anything, Gloss is the one that needs to be warned about Jo. Their absence only increases my sense of apprehension. This feeling of always waiting for something to go terribly wrong and having my guard up all the time is getting tiresome.

As if the world is playing a sick joke on me, I feel someone next to me and his presence feels like a million spiders crawling across my back.

"Hey, I was wondering where you ran off to." Gloss steps into my line of sight to Peeta, who is still chatting away with Finnick, and I can tell that Cashmere is trying but failing to be an active participant in the conversation. "So your friend…Johanna, is it? She's quite the firecracker, isn't she," he laughs as he leans in. "Not my type though, I'm more into the shy and quiet kind."

"I think we've established that already, and I'm only going to tell you one last time. You're wasting your time. Get over it."

"Who said I'm not?" He gives me a cocky grin and for a second I think maybe he really has moved on. "Anyway, so how long have you and Golden Boy over there been at it?"

I know I should just walk away and ignore him, but the words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. "A week, not that it's any of your business."

"What? Really? Well, now that I know, I wouldn't put too much stock in your current relationship if you've only been dating a week. Still time to change your mind, you know."

I know this game; I've played it with Gale a few too many times before. He's trying to get under my skin and send my relationship with Peeta crashing to the ground before we've even had a chance to see where it could go. I'm not falling for it though. Who cares if we've only been dating a week? The time I've spent with Peeta has been the best that I've spent with, well, anyone really.

"Well, that just goes to show how much you know," I try to say as casually as possible. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm sure there are more than enough able and willing girls around here for you. Just take your pick and leave me out of it." I side step around him and walk to the edge of the dance floor.

I've had enough. I think it's time to call it a night.

I catch Peeta's attention when he looks away from Finnick and Annie for a second, hoping he'll read my silent plea to leave. It doesn't take long for him to sense my uneasiness as he looks between me and Gloss. I watch him stand to excuse himself and wave bye to everyone. Glimmer seems disappointed but I don't think Peeta even notices. He tosses some cash on the table before he turns to face me, smiling and gesturing towards the door with his head.

"Thank you," I mouth silently at him as I nod my head and try to keep from running to the exit.

On my way, I run into Johanna who's grinding away up against some guy I've never seen before. I should tell her that I'm leaving, but I think twice about it and realize she'll probably be pissed if I interrupted her. She'll understand.

* * *

I leave a trail of clothes behind me as I leisurely begin to strip and make my way to the bedroom. The sound of Peeta's keys hitting the counter and his footsteps behind me let me know that I've caught his attention.

His lets out a loud sigh and I think I hear him undoing his belt. Not wanting to ruin the mood, I don't look behind me as I undo the clasp of my bra. Instead of removing it, I let the straps hang precariously on my shoulders as I shimmy out of my jeans and bend over slightly as I step out of them. The sound of his sharp inhale causes me to give in to my curiosity so I peek over my shoulder with a wicked grin.

Before I know it, though, he's behind me, scooping me up, one hand tightly around my back and the other hooked under my knees. A playful laugh escapes my lips as I pull myself into his chest and he carries me the rest of the way to the bed.

He doesn't bother turning on the lights but there's almost a full moon out tonight so I can pretty much see all I need to see in the moonlight. When he sets me down on the bed, I shrug off my bra and quickly relieve myself of my panties, flinging them over onto the wingback chair in the corner. Feeling a little overexposed now, I pull back the covers and jump under them. I'm overwhelmed with a scent that is distinctly Peeta and it's like a drug that starts to make my head foggy, in addition to the buzz I still have from the bar.

When I finally look up I realize that Peeta hasn't moved. He's still standing there at the edge of the bed with no shirt on…just looking at me.

"What?" I ask, a little annoyed that he's not in bed naked with me. He just smiles back sweetly as if he was content to just stand there all day and look at me. "Honestly, Peeta, what are you thinking about?"

"Honestly?"

"I hear it's the best policy." I try not to roll my eyes but I can't help it; it's second nature to me. He chuckles lightly as he rids himself of his jeans and finally crawls in to join me under the covers.

"Well, let's just say I didn't expect for us to be where we are quite so soon," he laughs again and I can feel the bed shake from the vibrations of his chest.

"And where…is that exactly?"

"For starters, you...here with me…in my bed…naked." He reaches over and the tips of his fingers graze along my side, startling me. I let out an unflattering gasp and give in to my natural reaction to slap his hand away.

"Hey! That tickles!" I shout, trying to sound serious but not succeeding at all as I try to hold back a giggle.

"Oh, I know," he laughs, sneaking in another pass along my side.

"Oh my god, Peeta, really, I'd be careful if I were you. I can't be held responsible for any damage I cause when I'm being tickled. If you get caught in the line of fire by one of my flailing limbs, it's not my fault. Consider yourself warned!"

"Duly noted." I think I can see the outline of a smirk on his face and it's not very convincing that he'll heed my warning.

"So, you were saying? Before you got distracted?" I huff as I wrap my arms around my middle defensively to avoid any further tickle attacks.

He pushes up on his side, shifting the bed underneath him, before he slides an arm under his head. The way his eyes look in the moonlight is captivating and I find it hard to look away.

"Yeah, so as I was saying, I didn't really expect much to come from my invitation to Finnick's party, the way you sped for the exit after talking to me didn't seem very promising. I was sure that I'd pushed my luck and scared you off. I was pissed at myself for the rest of the day because I thought that was my second chance and I blew it."

I bite the inside of my lip because I know it's true. If Peeta hadn't invited me out that night, I think I can almost guarantee that we wouldn't be where we are right now. I'd probably be at home watching some documentary on Animal Planet, glued to the sofa every night with a bowl of cheese puffs to keep me company. He reaches out and he runs the back of his fingers along my cheek. I lean into his touch, thankful that I decided to go against my natural introvert tendencies and took a chance.

"When I saw you walking up to Finnick's house that night," he continues as he begins to play with the loose strands of my hair, "I knew it was a sign. I finally had my second chance and maybe another shot with you. All I was really hoping for that night was to get a chance to sit down with you alone and just talk. Without scaring you off again, that is."

"So, I guess I gave you a little more than you bargained for," I smile back shyly, remembering how abnormally bold I was that night; not only with Peeta but also when I stood up to Delly and Cato. Man, what was I on?

"I'm definitely not complaining over here. But seriously, I had a hard time trying to restrain myself with you because like I said, I wanted to take it slow, ease into it. The last thing I wanted was to give you the wrong impression of my intentions. That's why I let you take the driver seat, to see if what I thought I was reading from you was right. I thought I was right, well until…" he trails off and turns onto his back, his arm now under his head causing his muscles to flex enticingly.

I want to crawl over and run my tongue over the underside of his bicep. Oh god, snap out of it! We're finally having a serious conversation here. I need to focus and keep my hands to myself. What was he saying? Oh yeah, I ran out on him that night.

"Um yeah, like I said before, sorry about running out like that."

"Please don't apologize to me about that. There's no need. I'm just glad you finally came around on your own. If you hadn't have come by the bakery last week, I was set on showing up on your doorstep later that evening with a box of cheese buns to try and win you over. I'm glad you beat me to it though."

"Sneaky, trying to win me over with baked goods," I say jokingly. He knows me too well if he knows the way to my heart is through my stomach. My mouth starts to water at the thought.

"Hey, I work with what I got," he laughs and it dawns on me how much I adore the sound of his laugh.

"You've got more than your baking skills going for you, that's for sure." I release my hands from my waist to run my fingers along the day old stubble that's starting to show along his jaw.

"Oh really," he turns back on his side to face me, moving in closer. He drapes his arm across my stomach and starts to doodle intricate patterns across my skin. It tickles a little but his touch leaves a tingling sensation behind as he lazily drags his fingers back and forth.

"And what else is it that I have? Please feel free to elaborate on the subject."

I don't hold back from rolling my eyes this time and I hope he notices. "Really? You want me to sit here and list off all your admirable traits?" I guess here's where the reassurance issue is going to kick in again.

"No, you don't have to sit up, you can continue to lay there and do it," he laughs as he tickles my side again.

"Watch it! You're walking a fine line there!" I scold. He leans over and places a light kiss on my temple and I can feel my heartbeat start to flutter.

"Sorry. You were saying?"

I take a deep breath in hopes of stalling a bit, hoping I'll somehow gain some confidence. I'm no good at compliments. I can't even take a compliment let alone dish them out to other people.

I clear my throat. Maybe if I just start off with something, anything, I'll just continue to ramble and hopefully something coherent will come out. "Well, I'm sure you've heard it a million times before, but if you haven't noticed…you're a…definitely easy to look at."

"Easy to look at?"

"Uh, yeah…you're, you know, good looking."

"Good looking," he repeats slowly with raised eyebrows.

"Well, yeah, you're hot."

"Just hot?"

"Fine! You're sexy!"

"You think I'm sexy?" he grins widely.

"Uh, you're impossible!" I huff, swatting at his hand on my stomach. Damn though, when he looks like that, how can he be anything but sexy? Embarrassed, I move to turn away from him to hide my face but his hand grips my side to stop me.

"Hey, come back here. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to tease you. I find it pretty fucking awesome that you find me attractive."

"I said sexy…not attractive."

"I know, I just wanted to hear you say it again," he chuckles lightly. His laugh is infectious and I can't stop myself from joining him.

"So moving on from my apparent good looks, what else do I have going for me? Or is everything I have only skin deep."

"Of course not, you are kidding me?" I respond exasperatedly. "Let's see, you can charm the pants of anyone, you're funny, you were one of the smartest people to graduate from our class, you can bake, you're an extremely talented yet in the closet artist, you're popular and everyone likes you, you're athletic and if I remember correctly were good at every sport possible…do I really need to continue?"

"Wow, I uh…I wasn't expecting all of that." He seems taken aback by my rambling, almost as if he can't believe any of what I just said. He leans his forehead against my temple and sighs, his breath tickling my ear. "And still, with all of those qualities it took me this long to get your attention," he whispers.

"Trust me, you got my attention a long time ago," I confess, looking up at the ceiling as I think back and try to pin point when exactly I started to notice Peeta.

I remember back in middle school, although not sure what grade it was, when Peeta came to school with a black eye. You'd have to have been blind to not noticed it. Rumor had it that he got into a spat with his older brother and was obviously on the losing end of it. They were both on the wrestling team and wrestling must have been in the Mellark bloodline because they were both ranked high in our district. They must have loved to rough house at home too because it always seemed like Peeta had some sort of bruise somewhere every few weeks. I hear him clear his throat softly as if he's waiting for me to continue.

"Oh yeah, and when was that?" He retracts his hand from my stomach and I frown, my body already missing his touch.

"Middle school, when you came to school with that big shiner that one day," I laugh as I turn on my side. I swipe my thumb under the same eye that was blackened so long ago. He catches my hand and the look on his face makes my heart drop.

Shit, did I say something wrong? The pained look on his face sends guilt through my veins so I slowly inch my hand from his grasp to caress his cheek. "I'm sorry, did I say something wrong?" I whisper.

I see him blink a few times as though he's returning to me from another world. He moves my hand from his cheek to his lips and kisses my fingers gently. I'm thoroughly confused and at a loss for words. I've never seen Peeta like this before and it makes me both sad and angry. Sad because he looks like a lost child and angry because something I said or did set him off.

"No, don't worry about it. It's nothing." He rests my hand on his cheek again as he stares off into space again. I may not be so in tune with my own feelings but I can tell when someone is holding back from me, and Peeta is definitely holding something back. What though? Two second ago we were great and now I feel like there's a huge elephant in the room.

"I don't think it was nothing, Peeta. You should have seen the look on your face…you looked like you saw…a ghost."

I don't want to push him because maybe it really is nothing and it's probably none of my business anyway, but the pressing need I suddenly have to protect him from whatever demons he's battling with inside his head is overwhelming. He can trust me. If there's one good thing that I have going for me, it's my ability to keep secrets. I'm a brick wall.

His mouth twitches as if he wants to say something but he remains silent. He shifts his eyes from the ceiling to look warily out the window, as if there's something out there he's trying to hide from.

"Peeta, look at me," I say softly. He doesn't move. His silence is unnatural and it's starting to make me uncomfortable. "Peeta, please?" I coax, gently pulling his face in my direction. He doesn't resist and his eyes eventually follow to meet mine. "You can trust me, you know, if there's anything you ever want to talk about. I may not be the best at consoling people, but I can listen. That's what I'm good at."

A small smile finally tugs at the corners of his mouth and the Peeta I know slowly starts to come back to me. I breathe a sigh of relief and smile back at him hopefully. Before I know it, he's pushes himself off his side and positions himself so he's hovering over me. He rests his elbows on either side of my head and his messy curls fall into his face. The way he's positioned himself allows me to have the perfect view of his smooth, toned muscles and when my eyes meet his, I know I've been caught staring.

He leans in and captures my mouth with his but I'm surprised by how it feels. We haven't kissed like this before. It's not needy or rushed. It's as if there's something else behind it, but I just can't put my finger on it. He pulls away all too soon and I groan in protest.

"I know," he whispers before he leaves a light kiss on the tip of my nose. "I know I can trust you, I just don't want to burden you with my past."

"Everyone has fears, it's ok to admit them. It doesn't make you weak because we're all afraid of something," I say in an attempt to narrow down what's upsetting him. He doesn't say anything; he just hovers there, his eyes lost again. "Or someone," I try once more.

Something flickers in his eyes and I know I must have said something right. Someone? Who would Peeta be afraid of? He doesn't have any enemies that I'm aware of, but that doesn't really say much because it's not like I've kept tabs on him since I left.

Shit. It's as if a buzzer finally goes off in my head as I connect the dots. How could I have been so dense? Fuck, and I just had to say the first time I started to notice him was when he got a black eye…from her. That must be it; it has to be it. I witnessed it first hand for myself when we graduated. How many times had his mother hit him like that? The way he reacted with no emotion, without even a flinch, when she slapped him that day meant it wasn't a one time, in the heat of the moment occurrence. It had to have happened a lot.

I try to think back to how many times I could remember him showing at school with a bruise. It was only in middle school that I started to take notice, so it must have started then. No…that wouldn't make any sense. Something like that doesn't just start up out of the blue. It had to have started when he was younger - a lot younger – for him to have built up the immunity to it that he showed that day. The thought of his mother laying a hand on him when he was an innocent, chubby-faced little boy with a mop of curly hair makes me shudder. How could anyone in their right mind do that to their child? The thought disgusts me as I try to process this. His mother must have only hit him where no one, like our teachers, would see. Either she just got lazy as he got older or it was easier to just pass off his bruises on the actions of a regular teenage boy who liked to rough house.

If what I'm piecing together is at all true, I need to confirm it before I go off the handle. I open my mouth to test my theory but he beats me to it and my window of opportunity is lost.

"Maybe I'll tell you someday…but not right now."

He looks tired all of a sudden and it's almost as if everything that was going on in my head just played out like a silent film through my eyes for him to watch. His arms go slack as he rolls off the side of me and curls up into my chest, nuzzling his head between my breasts. It's not at all sexual. It's comfort that he wants, that he needs, and I'll be damned if I deny him of it.

I wrap my arms around his head gently and comb my fingers through his hair the way my mother used to do when I was upset or hurt as a child. It always made me feel better and…safe. That's what I want him to understand; he's safe here with me. He can trust me.

Peeta's fingers tighten against my waist as he tries to pull himself closer to me. I reach for the sheets and pull them up around us and continue to run my fingers through his hair, stopping to place soft kisses on his head occasionally.

I'm not sure how long we stay like this, wrapped up in the sheets, but his grip on me eventually loosens and his breaths against my chest even out in a steady rhythm. I'm not sure how I'm going to fall asleep when my mind is racked with images of Peeta and his bruises and his witch of a mother. So I start to hum softly to myself to try and clear my head and calm my nerves. When I finally start to feel drowsy, I lean down to place a soft kiss on his cheek and whisper softly into his ear.

"You're safe with me."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Hello my faithful followers! I'm still here and I'm happy to say that I've caught up on this story quite a bit so I won't keep you waiting that long again for the next chapter (fingers crossed). Hope you liked jealous Katniss, she's always fun to write!

As usual, a big thanks to my beta, _**JenieZee**_, for all her help! Also, thank you to everyone who has kept with me so far and to those who have followed and favorited! Don't be shy and please leave a review, I love hearing from you!

Come and visit me on tumblr (pookieh)!


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer:** This fanfic is rated 'M' for language and sexual content. I do not own any of the characters of The Hunger Games.

* * *

**Chapter 17: Just One Look**

"Katniss?"

I shift my leg over lazily and snuggle my face deeper into my pillow, my mind caught somewhere between consciousness and blissful sleep. Huh, my pillow feels a bit on the firm side, not as fluffy as I remember it.

"Katniss, are you awake?"

My eyes flutter open and try to adjust to the darkness that surrounds me. My mind is still lagging since I've been hovering in and out of sleep for the past hour or so. My thoughts finally catch up with my body, and I realize where I am.

The conversation between Peeta and me from last night replays in my head, drawing me further out of my sleepy haze. I can feel Peeta moving around next to me; what I thought was my pillow is actually his chest.

I crane my neck to stretch out my muscles and turn to face him. Even in the dark, it would be impossible to miss that unbelievably beautiful grin that makes me want to melt back into the sheets. "Hey," I croak. Shit, how sexy was that? He lets out a quiet laugh, and I swallow a few times to coat my dry throat and try again. "Morning…what time is it?"

"Early, but you can go back to sleep. I just need to run downstairs to the bakery to get some dough started for my dad." I begin to pout, but he smiles as he runs the pad of his thumb across my bottom lip. "Don't worry, I'm not working today, but I promised him that I'd get things started." I feel his arm snake around my waist as he pulls me in for a slow, languid kiss. As he pulls away I feel my lips already starting to tingle, wanting more of him. "Go back to bed," he whispers as he places another soft kiss to my temple.

It's still dark out, so I roll over and squint my eyes at the clock on the nightstand that glows dimly in the dark. 5:30. Being a morning person, this doesn't feel too early. When my father and I used to go for our early morning walks in the woods, we were usually up around this time.

Peeta sits up and leans over the edge of the bed to grab something off the floor. I resist the urge to reach over and run my hands over the smooth planes of his back as he stands and pulls a pair of sweats up over the curve of his ass. He bends down again in search of a shirt, and this time, I can't stop myself from scrambling over the bed to smack him square on his backside.

He laughs in surprise, almost tripping over his own feet. "Hey now!"

"Well, there's no use for me to even try to go back to sleep after a view like _that_. I'm wide awake now," I say with an iniquitous grin. Not wanting to be left to my own devices up here, I lean over and blindly search the floor for my shirt, but something suddenly flies at me from across the room and lands in my lap.

"Here, you can wear one of mine. At least it's clean."

"Thanks." I pull the shirt over my head and inhale deeply as it passes over my nose. Good lord, I wish I could bottle Peeta's scent and wear it all day long. Hmm, I might need to rummage through his dresser later so I can steal one of these shirts to sleep in it at home.

When I stand up, the hem of the shirt hits me mid-thigh, leaving me feeling a little exposed. Damn it. My jeans are still in the kitchen somewhere, along with my underwear. I let out a frustrated sigh and turn to leave the bedroom. "I need to find my underwear," I mumble, but before I can take another step, Peeta has a hold of me by the waist.

"I don't see any need for those. My shirt covers you just fine." He breathes into my ear before he nips at the sensitive spot along my neck.

"Hey!" I protest, trying to swat him away, but all he does is lift me up over his shoulder and fireman-carries me out the bedroom. I try to wriggle out of his firm grasp, but it's no use. If I'm being honest with myself though, being carried around like this is kind of hot, especially when he sneaks one of his hands up the back of my bare thigh to run his fingers dangerously close to where my underwear would normally cover my ass.

"Don't start something you don't intend to finish, Mellark," I warn, wriggling my hips against his shoulder in hopes of causing his hand to shift to where I desperately want to feel his touch.

He laughs and then teasingly squeezes my thigh before removing his hand completely and settling it back behind my knees. "Fine, I'll behave myself," he says as I bounce against his shoulder and we descend the second set of stairs that lead straight from the apartment to the bakery below.

It's dark and quiet, except for the steady hum of the large refrigerator in the back corner of the room. Peeta sets me down gently on one of the counters in the middle of the large kitchen. The cool metal surface elicits goose bumps along the backs of my legs, causing me to shove my hands underneath my thighs as a barrier. All of a sudden, a few of the overhead fluorescent lights flicker to life, and my eyes squint until they adjust to the brightness.

I sneak a glance over at Peeta and study his movements as he locates the rest of the light switches. The way he fills out his plain, white v-neck shirt so perfectly, how he doesn't wear any boxers under his grey sweats, and how his hair falls randomly in his face…he looks so fucking perfect.

He catches my eye and grins, knowing full well that he caught me staring before he walks over to a wooden desk in the corner that I hadn't noticed. There are stacks of papers scattered about, an old desktop computer, and what I assume are cookbooks piled on the bookshelf overhead. He reaches for something, and the room is suddenly filled with the sound of a familiar drumbeat and guitar riff.

I recognize the song immediately (since my father listens to the local classic oldies radio station every morning) and before long, the room is filled with the voice of Dusty Springfield as she belts out "_I Only Want to be With You_."

"I, uh, hope you don't mind." He gestures to the CD player in the corner. "My dad still listens to CDs, and this is his favorite," he says with a bit of hesitation as he runs a hand through the unruly curls at the back of his head.

"Are you kidding me? I don't mind one bit! We listen to this kind of stuff at home all the time!" I find my body starting to sway and my head swings back and forth in time with the catchy rhythm. Peeta turns around and grabs a bowl from under the table and a few other things off the shelf behind him.

He lifts the lid off of a plastic container that has something scribbled on the side in black marker. Curious, I lean over to see what it is. I'm hit with a strong, fermenting, sour smell that causes me to jerk my face back and crinkle my nose in response.

"What is _that_?"

"It's sourdough starter," Peeta laughs as he sets the lid down on the counter and ladles out a few heaping spoonfuls of the beige, rancid-smelling muck into one of the bowls.

"You're actually going to use that?" I squirm in disgust. "It smells like it's been sitting on the shelf for years!"

"Well, it _is_ over twenty years old. So I'd definitely say it's been on the shelf for quite awhile now." Peeta places the lid back on the plastic tub, seals it tightly, and returns it to the shelf behind him. He looks back at my horrified face.

"Over _twenty_ years old? You're kidding me right?" When he doesn't answer I feel my stomach start to turn at the smell. "You're not kidding."

"Nope," he chuckles lightly. "My dad made this starter before I was born, just after he took over the bakery." He grabs a large bag of flour and plops it down next to the bowl on the counter. "And you can wipe that disgusted look off your face now," he laughs. "This is how we make bread, Katniss. We use a bit of the starter every time we make a new batch of dough."

"Well, that doesn't make sense. How do you still have any left after using it for twenty years?"

Peeta places his hands on the edge of the counter and looks down to the floor as he shakes his head and chuckles. "I never thought you'd be so curious about bread making. Don't get me wrong, I think your curiosity is unbelievably cute."

The disgusted look on my face doesn't improve much; instead it morphs into a frown. No one but my grandmother has ever called me cute. That word is reserved for little babies and fluffy animals…not me. "I just like knowing what goes into the food I eat, and knowing that old moldy muck goes into sourdough bread is kind of ruining it for me."

"We feed the dough twice a day with fresh flour and water, so technically what I just used isn't really that old."

"Oh," I say, a little less sickened by the thought, and I lean back in again to watch him as he scoops flour from the bag into the bowl. "So, you feed it like you'd feed a pet then?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say it's like a pet," he says as he places the bag of flour back onto the ground at his feet.

Watching him here, in his element, is calming. I inch over a bit closer again now that my nose is used to the smell of the dough so I can see what he's doing. His face is slack and relaxed, his motions almost trance-like. His hands movie fluidly as he adds ingredients into the bowl without the aid of a measuring cup. It must be from years of repeating this process over and over, so I don't doubt that he's committed to memory every recipe of every baked good they make here.

Never having been in a big industrial kitchen like this before, I look around the room and lean back onto my palms as I take it all in, kicking my feet back and forth under the counter. I must get lost in the music and the calm surrounding of the cozy kitchen because I suddenly realize that I've been humming along with the current song, compliments of the sultry voice of Doris Troy. The words come to me naturally as I sing softly in harmony with the tune. I haven't sung out loud with anyone else around me in such a long time that when I realize what I'm doing, I soften my voice to a whisper and look over to Peeta.

He's stopped what he's doing and is watching me intently instead. Shyness suddenly overtakes me, and I stop singing completely. I can feel my cheeks start to flush, and I have to look away from his intense stare.

"Why'd you stop?" he asks softly.

"Cause you're staring at me!"

"Don't stop on my account, keep going," he says encouragingly. "Wait! Start over…" he trails off as he shuffles back over to the desk and restarts the song.

I sigh deeply, a little annoyed at his request to put me on the spot. But when I see the excitement in his eyes, it's like watching Prim on Christmas morning. Something inside my chest tightens, and an image from last night of how hurt and tormented he looked flashes before my eyes. I can almost guarantee that no one had ever sung Peeta to sleep when he was a child, not the way my father used to for Prim and me.

Not wanting to disappoint him, I push my nerves aside and sigh as I look down at my swaying feet, ready to pick up the words in time with the start of the lyrics.

"_Just one look…and I fell so hard,_

_In love…with you…oh-oh oh-oh,_

I glance at Peeta from the corner of my eye and find him leaning the small of his back against the counter, his palms against the edge, and his fingers drumming lightly along with the beat. He's not looking at me, but I can tell he's all ears, listening to me intently.

_I found out…how good it feels,_

_To have…your love…oh-oh oh-oh,_

Having him not looking at me has steadied my nerves a bit and my voice becomes clearer and more confident with each word. My eyes voluntarily close as I begin to lose myself in the music and start to move in time with the rhythm.

_Say you will…will be mine,_

_Forever…and always…oh-oh oh-oh,_

_Just one look…and I knew,_

_That you…were my only one…oh-oh oh-oh…"_

Just as I'm about to belt out the next line, I suddenly feel Peeta's hands on my waist. I open my eyes and find that he's situated himself in front of me, and he leans over to pull me off the table. Before my bare feet can hit the tile floor, he gathers me up in his arms, and I wrap mine around his neck tightly as I secure my legs around his hips.

The feeling of my bare center against the thin fabric of his sweats elicits a stunned gasp from my lips. I can't help but feel giddy as he starts to sway us to the music. His lips brush against mine for a brief moment, but then he nudges the tip of my nose with his, as if he's encouraging me to continue. A smile widens on my face as I pick up back with the song.

"_So you see…I really care,_

_Without you…I'm nothing…oh-oh oh-oh,_

I look him straight in the eye as I rest my forehead against his. He slows down our movements, and I feel my backside bump up against the counter again as he lifts me slightly to rest on the edge.

_Just one look…and I know,_

_I'll get you…someday…oh-oh oh-oh …"_

His lips find mine that instant, silencing me, and I eagerly trail my fingers to the back of his head. I fist my hands into his hair to draw him closer to me as the song fades away in the background. I can feel his grip tighten around my thighs as our kiss becomes more heated, more urgent. His lips are warm and soft and the way the tip of his tongue teases the underside of my top lip is driving me crazy as I rake my fingers through his messy hair.

My hands take on a mind of their own as they skim across his back in search of the hem of his shirt. Once I find what I'm looking for, my fingers quickly travel up his sides, bringing his shirt up with them. He gasps into my mouth and says something along the lines of "cold," I think. Damn it. Thanks to poor blood circulation, my hands are always freezing.

He pulls away suddenly, his lips leaving me frustrated and unsatisfied, but he doesn't move away from me.

"Katniss, I…I have something to tell you—"

I hear him, but I'm not listening. I'm not in the mood to talk so I cut him off as I shut my eyes and urgently press my mouth to his again, swallowing whatever words were on the tip of his tongue. A few seconds later though, he pulls away from me again as he firmly presses his palms down into the tops of my thighs. I can't stop the irritated grunt that resonates from the back of my throat.

"Katniss, really…I…I need get something off my chest—"

What could possibly be so important right now? My body is pulsing with eagerness and frustration, wanting to take this back up to his bedroom, so I cut him off once more. This time, my tongue parts his lips, and I'm surprised at how easily he surrenders. Whatever he wants to discuss can surely wait until later.

I know I've won this round when I feel his grip on my thighs loosen and his shoulders relax and give way to the weight of my arms. His defeat is only momentary, though, because before I know it, he gathers me up in his arms, and I grip him tightly around his waist as he gently lowers my feet back down to the ground.

"Katniss," he chuckles as he tugs at my shirt, "you're impossible."

The sound of my name on his lips and the way he accentuates the last syllable with a hiss sends shockwaves through me, awakening every inch of my body. I've never really had much patience for foreplay, but the idea of teasing Peeta until he's practically begging me for his release is such a turn-on that I can feel the heat pooling beneath my belly.

"I want you," I plead, fisting my hands into the front of his shirt. "Now."

"Here?" he asks hesitantly.

My eyes flit around the room until they land on a chair at the desk a few feet behind him. A sinful grin slowly spreads across my face and I draw in my bottom lip with my teeth. I quickly nod in response to his question as I flatten my hands against his chest and urge him backwards.

"_Where_ exactly do you want me?" he asks again; this time his voice is low and steady.

He raises a curious brow when his legs hit the seat of the chair behind him, but I make my intentions fully known when I brush the tips of my fingers lightly over the bulge that's straining against the thin fabric of his pants. He quickly relieves himself of his shirt and I give a swift tug at his waistband, freeing his cock as it stands at attention before me and his pants pool at his ankles. I give him another playful shove and he falls back into the chair.

He lets out a laugh as he situates himself in the seat, but when I cross my arms at my waist and lift my shirt over my head, I'm sure it's the sight of my bare breasts pressed close together that causes his voice to suddenly catch in his throat. I watch his eyes widen as he takes in my body. When his tongue darts out to wet his lips, I fight the urge to run my hand down my stomach to where I so desperately want to feel his tongue on me. But this isn't about me. It's about him. I want to feel the heat of him in my hands. I want to flood my senses with the scent of his skin. But above all, I want to taste every inch of him.

Our eyes lock into a heated stare and he flashes me that sexy lopsided grin as I lick my lips and I lower myself to my knees. The floor is cool against my shins, but it's a welcomed feeling from the heat that's already radiating off my body in anticipation. I don't know who wants this more: him or me. "I want you—," I whisper, placing an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of this thigh, "—I want to taste you."

He inhales sharply when I drag my hand teasingly along his hardening length and then down to his legs where I free his feet from his sweats, tossing them off to the side. I leisurely lick my way up the underside of his cock, taking my time to savor every inch of him before slowly rounding the ridge of his head with my tongue. Not wanting to miss his reaction, I sneak a glance back up to his face. I watch as his eyes gradually fall shut and his head lolls back against the chair. He sucks in his bottom lip and when I grip him firmly and take all of him into my mouth, he lets out a shuddering moan as I tug gently at his sac with my other hand.

"Your mouth…feels…so…fucking amazing," he whispers between shallow, ragged breaths as his grip on the side of the chair tenses. His encouraging words are the exact confidence boost I need, so I increase my movements, taking him deeper until he's almost hitting the back of my throat.

He weaves his fingers into my hair and tugs lightly at the strands as he moves in rhythm with me. The feel of his nails scrapping against my scalp is so unbelievably amazing that I begin to moan with pleasure, surprised at how much it's turning me on. I start to feel the slick heat of my arousal gathering between my legs so I clench my thighs together tightly in a desperate attempt to satisfy the throbbing at my center.

I release him from my mouth for a brief second and pull away to catch my breath, continuing to work him with my hands. I nip at the inside of his thigh when I'm ready to take him again, but before I can; he cups my chin and gently lifts my face towards his.

"Come here," he commands.

He helps me to my feet and I shift my legs around his until I'm sitting straddled in his lap. He pulls me closer and sighs into the hollow of my neck.

"I need you," he whispers against my skin before tracing small, light circles along my collarbone with the tip of his tongue. I screw my eyes shut to focus on the sensation and I grab hold of the back of the chair as my hips begin to rock back and forth slowly against him.

He suddenly grips my ass and lifts me until I'm balancing on the tips of my toes and his cock brushes teasingly along the length of my entrance. Our eyes meet, and I can see my own burning desire reflected back at me through his.

"I need to feel you," he groans before our lips come together in a heated kiss. He draws his fingers through my wet folds, spreading my arousal and dipping two fingers into me. I think I hear him curse under his breath as he twists and curls his fingers forward and then slowly drags them out, sending shivers up my spine. I lean into him and let out a frustrated groan, unable to take anymore more of this sweet, sweet torture.

My fingers curl into the back of the chair to brace myself as I align our hips and I sink down, reveling in the sensation as he stretches me, coaxing my walls to conform tightly around him. He takes me off guard when he bucks into me the rest of the way and I almost lose my balance. He tightens his grip around my waist to hold me in place. "I've got you," he hisses as he quickens his pace and I desperately try to keep up with his erratic rhythm. I steady myself against the chair once more when he releases his grip from my waist to paw at my chest, and I can feel my breasts shake against his palms with each thrust.

I know I'm not going to last much longer at this pace, and neither is he, but it doesn't matter. All that matters is that I'm here with him, and he's here with me, fulfilling our fiery desire for one another.

The movements of his hips start to slow and I can tell he's almost there. He drops a hand away from my chest and starts to rub small, swift circles around my clit with his thumb. I desperately lean into his touch and drop my head forward, focusing on the building sensation that courses through my body, when he finally lets out a guttural moan.

With a final thrust, he finds his release and spills into me. I follow him over the brink of pleasure no more than a few seconds after and slump down onto his heaving chest. His heart beats rapidly against my ear and I can feel the vibrations as he laughs quietly into my hair. "That was—"

"Shit!" I lift my head from his chest to face him. He looks at me and a mix of hurt and confusion is written all over his face. "I mean, what about the dough?"

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head, resting his forehead against mine. "Who the hell cares."

* * *

"Now, we're right here." Haymitch stifles a yawn as he points with his finger at the folded-up map I'm holding. The dirt and grime visible under his nails, as well as his breath, are enough to make my stomach turn. Does this guy ever shower or brush his teeth?

I'm surprised at how fast the week has blown by, given that we've been cooped up in a boardroom each day for health and safety training. Thankfully, I didn't have to participate much during the training, and both Gloss and Gale kept their distance. We just had to answer a few questions here and there and watch a whack load of safety videos. The days started to blend together after the second day in, and my mind was too drained at the end of the day to really do much else but eat and sleep.

I hadn't seen Peeta since the weekend because our schedules just kept conflicting. There's been a sudden influx of custom cake orders this week that's kept him busy. He's been meticulously decorating cake after cake into the early hours of the morning almost every day. We've talked on the phone a few times, but not being one for sitting around and talking into an inanimate object, we quickly resorted to texting each other before bed each night instead.

"So," Haymitch says, interrupting my thoughts as he clears his throat and sends spit hurtling on the ground. "Once a week, you'll make this circuit of wells, and it should only take you about six hours to complete."

We hadn't seen Haymitch all week, so I was surprised to see him yesterday on our final day of training. He stopped by to tell us that now the real fun could begin. Whatever that meant. He instructed us to bring our field gear with us, and we met him at the entrance to the trails bright and early for our first field day.

"That's almost the whole day," Gloss whines as he hikes the pack he's carrying further up his shoulders. True to form, he insisted that he take the supply pack for the hike, leaving me to carry the map and Haymitch empty-handed.

"Hey, you signed up for this job. Nobody here forced you, so quit your griping. If you keep a good pace and eat along the way, you can easily be done in five hours. But don't push it when you're out here. The heat and humidity can creep up on you, so remember to keep hydrated. Oh and another thing, make sure the both of you always bring your cell phones, and make sure they're on at all times."

Haymitch takes the lead, and we follow behind him along the well-worn trail that cuts through the wooded portion of the quarry's property. I study the map a few times as the trail twists and turns, and we trudge deeper and deeper into the woods. The smell of pine and the way the sunlight dapples through the overhead canopy brings a smile to my face in spite of my current company—a grumpy old man and an arrogant know-it-all. As I breathe in the fresh air deeply, I'm reminded of the woods behind our house, which is probably connected to this forest somewhere.

I'm surprised at how agile Haymitch is as he leaps over rocks and the large, twisted tree roots that occasionally cross our path. Gloss, on the other hand, has heavy footsteps as he tromps behind me, stepping on every possible branch and twig.

"So, according to the map, MW-three should be up here somewhere to our left," I say as I glance down at the map once again. It's kind of fun, having to locate the groundwater wells that we will need to measure, almost like a treasure hunt in an uncharted land.

"After you then," Haymitch says as he stands aside to let us pass in search for the well. He said he would accompany us our first time out here just to make sure we knew what we were doing and that we didn't "fuck anything up".

I spy something foreign looking amongst the tree trunks. About ten feet off the trail there's a painted blue square metal tube sticks up about four feet out of the ground. "Over there," I say pointing it out to Gloss. As we veer off the trail, I notice the top of the well is locked just as I hear Haymitch call out from behind me, "There should be a key in the pack!"

Gloss turns around to allow me access to the pockets of the pack and mutters under his breath. "This doesn't seem that difficult of a job. I don't see why we need to be babysat."

"He's just doing his job," I say as I unzip the top pockets and retrieve the Panem Aggregates keychain with a single brass key dangling off of it. "Besides, a lot of those wells look like they're well off the beaten path so he probably just wants to makes sure we can locate them all at least once before letting us loose on our own."

I unlock the well and tip the metal cover back to expose the PVC well tube inside. Gloss shrugs off the pack to remove the water level meter.

Haymitch leans up against a thick tree trunk watching us, "Just be careful when you open those well lids. Spiders, and sometimes wasps, like to hide out in there. Wouldn't want anyone getting stung." He picks at his fingernail briefly before he shouts at us again. "Are either of you allergic to bee stings?"

"Nope," we both answer simultaneously. Good, the thought of having to stick the pointy end of an EpiPen in Gloss or anyone else's thigh makes me cringe. I hate needles and blood and oozing bodily liquids. Blah.

"So, you take notes, and I'll take the readings," Gloss says as he shoves the notebook and pen in my direction.

"No way! Why do I have to take notes?"

"Because you're a girl and have way better handwriting than me. Even I can't read my own chicken scratch."

I stare back at him, unmoving. I'm not a pushover, and the arrogant tone of his seemingly innocent, yet chauvinistic comment, doesn't bode well with me. Sensing my stubbornness, he finally lowers the notebook and hands me the equipment.

"Fine, but don't blame me when you can't read my notes later."

I unplug the well cap and place it in the metal well lid to keep from losing it on the ground. Haymitch's voice plays back in my head as I go through my mental list of steps to use the measuring device. It looks like mini hose reel with a long, white plastic measuring tape wound around it. At the end is a metal probe that is supposed to beep once it comes in contact with water.

I drop the probe end into the well, and gravity helps pull it down as I keep the wheel from spinning too fast. Haymitch said the wells here aren't too deep, so we should hit the water table at about five or six feet. When the measuring tape rolls right past seven feet, I start to panic. Eventually there's a loud clunk, and the probe stops moving at around eleven feet.

Fuck. Where's the water? Gloss looks curiously between Haymitch and me, waiting for someone to say something.

"Well, did you turn the damn thing on?" Haymitch finally laughs.

Shit. My first time using this equipment on my own, and I forget to turn the fucking thing on. I twist the knob on the side that controls the volume, and an ear-piercing beep fills the air. Gloss covers his ears as I turn down the volume and reel the measuring tape back up quickly until it stops beeping. It's then that I hear Haymitch's laughter in the distance, and I can tell from the look on Gloss' face that he's not going to let me live this one down.

This is going to be a very, very long day.

* * *

By the time we make it back to the office, it's almost four in the afternoon and being Friday, most of the other employees have already left for the weekend. I'm surprised Beetee is still at his desk when Gloss and I tramp though the office with our rubber boots and field gear.

"Looks like you guys had a fun day today," he smiles before the phone in his hand beeps.

"You got a girl waiting on you or something?" Gloss grins as he sets the pack down his desk and sits to start prying his boots off.

"Uh, yeah," he says without looking up from his phone, his fingers rapidly typing away on the keypad. "Girlfriend actually. And she's visiting for the weekend and I have to pick her up at the train station—" He looks down at his watch, "Now actually."

"So, does this girlfriend have a name? Or are we supposed to call her 'the girlfriend'?" Gloss asks, although I'm not really sure how sincere he is or if he really even cares. I would have thought the revelation of a girlfriend would have come up last week when they were all at the bar. Actually, I'm not really surprised that it didn't, considering that all Gloss likes to talk about is himself.

Beetee gives a hesitant laugh, almost as if he was hoping to keep his girlfriend a secret, let alone her name. "Her name's Wiress. We go to the same school. Same class actually."

Before Gloss can make some sort of offhand comment about the unusual name, I jump in to his aid. "Well, sounds like you better get going then. Hope you two have a great weekend!"

Beetee flashes me a grateful smile as he grabs his coat off the back of his chair and shoves his phone in his back pocket. "Right, see you guys on Monday then. Later!"

As I sit to remove my boots and change my socks for a fresh pair, I sense Gloss hovering over the cubicle wall. I look up with an unimpressed frown. "Can I help you?"

"Not really, just…who would have thought a guy like him would have a girlfriend."

'What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Well, he's smart I guess, but he could sure use some help in the looks department. Maybe lift some weights and bulk up or something too."

"You're such an ass. You know that, right?"

"So I've been told," he smirks. "So you planning on see your boy toy tonight?"

"And you care because…" I trail off as I ball up my spent socks and throw them into my purse.

In actuality, I was hoping to see Peeta tonight, but he said he was stuck at the bakery, yet again. Something about a wedding cake for tomorrow, so I decided it was probably best not to drop in unannounced, just in case his dad was there.

Instead, Johanna was eager to have a "girls night out" and decided that we should hit up the country bar in the next town over. Madge said she was in, but Annie had regretfully declined, something about a stomach ache.

Why did I even agree to it? I should have feigned sick like Annie. I don't do country bars, and I definitely don't do plaid shirts and cowboy boots. I told Johanna that I wouldn't be caught dead dressing up for the occasion, but she said not to worry about it and just to bring my showered self and she'd take care of the rest. I'm not looking forward to this. At all.

I almost forget that Gloss is still staring at me from over the cubicle wall when he clears his throat. "Just asking," he says as he throws up his hands defensively. "You'll be happy to know that I took your advice last weekend. After you left, I found this foxy redhead. We hit it off so she's coming over to my place tonight so we can, ya know, get to know each other a little better," he says with a suggestive wink.

I can't be bothered to make eye contact with him or justify his comment with a response because to do so would only encourage him. I shove on my shoes and grab my purse as I make a beeline for the door. I don't bother turning around when I hear him call after me.

"Well have a good weekend! Maybe I'll see you around!"

God, I hope not.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Hello my faithful followers! I'm trying to get back to my original posting schedule (every 7-10 days), so fingers crossed! For those of you who are interested, the song Katniss sang was _"Just One Look"_ by Doris Tray...such a good oldies tune, I grew up on that stuff! This chapter is a bit of a set up for some, uh, fun yet "interesting" times ahead at a country bar...there just may be a mechanical bull involved...just sayin!

A big thanks to **_Court81981_** for stepping in to beta this chapter for me, and you all should be thanking her for the bakery sex! It wasn't in the first draft! ;) You should check out her fic **_Windfall_** if you're in need for more Everlark, it's awesome! Also a big thanks to _**Ro**** Nordmann** _for the amazing banner for this story which can be found on my tumblr under the "Fanfiction Inspiration" page, check it out!

As always, thank you for your continued support and to those who have recently followed and favorited! I look forward to some feedback with regards to the sexy times in the bakery, hope you enjoyed it!

Come and visit me on tumblr (pookieh)!


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer:** This fanfic is rated 'M' for language and sexual content. I do not own any of the characters of The Hunger Games.

* * *

**Chapter 18: Reconciliation**

By the time I get home and have stripped myself free of my disgusting and sweaty clothing, my body is screaming to be scrubbed clean. Just as I cross the threshold of my bedroom en route to the bathroom, my phone almost vibrates off the desk and I let out a startled shriek. I catch it just before it topples over the edge and frown as I check the screen.

_Peeta: What are you up to?_

_Peeta: I ended up finishing that damn cake early, so I'm free tonight!_

"Fuck," I groan. Just my luck. I entertain the thought of blowing Johanna off again, but that lasts for all of two seconds and I cringe at the verbal backlash that'll be waiting for me if I do.

Maybe this girl's night won't be too bad, right? Shit. Who the hell am I kidding? I have two options. Suffer a night dressed up in some crazy getup Johanna has planned for to me wear while listening to some cowboy sing about his love affair with his tractor…or…spend the entire night tangled up in with Peeta between his sheets naked. Hmmm. I'm a terrible friend.

My fingers hover over the keypad, hesitant to type out a response as I force myself to make a decision. Unfortunately for Peeta though, my conscience to fulfill my duties as a good friend wins out. I text him back with an apology and a rain check that I hope to cash in sooner rather than later.

_Peeta: That's cool, don't worry about it…I'm not going anywhere._

_Peeta: Maybe I'll see what Thresh and Finnick are up to then, have fun! Or at least try to ;)_

Yeah right, easier said than done.

* * *

After showering and shaving almost every inch of my body, I throw on a comfy shirt and sweats since Johanna is going to be using me as a dress up doll later. I pack a few things in an overnight bag and braid my hair quickly since I'm now running late.

As I do a once over of my room before heading downstairs, I recall how it wasn't too long ago that I stood here, in this exact spot, as I shredded the only picture in existence that I had of Peeta. Even if Delly was wrapped around him in that photo, an inkling of regret tugs at my heart. Wow. My life has taken quite the one-eighty in so little time. Who would have thought?

I switch off the light and close the door behind me. As I pass by Prim's room, I sneak a glance at her through the crack in the door. She's lying down on her back atop her bed, gabbing away on her phone to Rue no doubt. Just to be a bitch, I reach back against the wall and feel for the light switch in Prim's room with my fingertips and quickly flick it off. I can't make out her precise choice of words as she calls out to me because I'm already down the stairs and in the kitchen with a huge smirk on my face by the time I hear her door slam upstairs.

"Hasn't she left yet?" My father's voice startles me and I place a hand over my rapidly beating heart. "She said she was going to Rue's to work on a school project or something."

"It's Friday night, why on earth would she do that?" I shake my head knowing full well that this "school project" is probably just an excuse and that the night will somehow end with her swapping spit with Rory in a park somewhere.

"Oh lighten up and give your sister a break. She's old enough to have a life too you know," he says as if reading my thoughts. He pulls out a wooden tray from the overhead cupboards. "So, you look nice, what are you up to tonight? Going on a date?"

I do an exaggerated eye roll just for his sake as I set my bag down on one of the chairs and search for my keys. I swore I left them on the kitchen table when I got home after work this afternoon.

From the corner of my eye, I catch my father as he opens the freezer and mulls around before he pulls out a tub of orange sherbet and places it on the counter. I sift through a pile of papers on the table wondering if maybe my keys got lost amongst the organized chaos.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" He raises his brow knowingly. "Because you know, you can tell your old man if there's a guy who's stealing you away tonight," he says with a wink.

I shoot him an irritated scowl but I'm not sure he takes note of it. I let my silence do all the talking as I continue my search for my keys. The cupboards open and close behind me again, and I finally spot a shiny jagged metal edge peeking out from under this month's edition of Field & Stream. I scan the article titles on the cover quickly for anything of interest, but nothing catches my eyes. The keys jingle as I shove them in my back pocket and I look up to see my father as he arranges two bowls of sherbet on the tray. He's topped the sherbet with fresh raspberries and I notice two wine glasses on the tray too.

"Fine then…as long as you're out of the house, it doesn't matter to me where you end up," he says as he grabs two spoons from the drawer and pushes it closed with his hip. "Cause it's date night for your mother and I, so feel free to keep yourself occupied for the rest of the night."

The thought of what he's insinuating causes me to shy away in disgust and I mumble a quick "ew" for good measure. I know my parents are still madly in love with each other, but knowing that they still know how to keep their romance alive is something I like to draw a blind eye to. I realize that I still haven't answered his question, but I'm not really sure how to answer him.

As far as my parents are concerned, I've yet to experience a serious relationship. During our weekly phone conversations while I was away at school, the topic just never really came up. I debated telling my father about Gale at one point because I thought that maybe he'd like the fact that his daughter was dating the son of one of his closest friends, but something held me back. I'm glad now though that I didn't because I'm not exactly sure how I'd go about explaining to him why we're no longer together.

Should I tell him the truth? What am I so worried about? This is my father, the man who told me I could be anyone I wanted to be and do anything I set my mind to. I'm sure he'd be happy for me, knowing that I've finally found someone worth writing home about. Although I'm pretty sure they've met Peeta before, there's something about the thought of introducing him to my family as my "boyfriend" that fills my chest with a warm and tingly feeling. So then why am I acting so ridiculous? I should just tell him.

I clear my throat and close my eyes. "That shouldn't be a problem. I don't think I'll be back tonight anyway. But to, um, answer you question…I'm actually…kind of…seeing someone."

My father's back stiffens and he stands frozen for a second against the counter before he turns around to face me. He has a blank look on his face, but I can tell there are a thousand thoughts and questions running through his head right now. I'm my father's daughter in every way and we share the same mannerisms. Shit. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

He eventually clears his throat to speak. "Oh yeah? Well, I was kind of kidding really, but that's…nice to hear. Anyone we know?"

"Um, yeah, I think so…Peeta Mellark?"

His features seem to soften in relief and I could swear a small smirk crosses his face. I'm curious as to why, but I don't think it's something I really want to get into right now. "Well…that's great, honey! So, is that where you're headed to tonight? Because if so, uh, yeah, have fun. But not, uh, too much fun."

I can feel the heat start to radiate through my cheeks because I can't believe I'm actually having this conversation with my father right now. Why can't we just communicate silently and fill in the blanks for each other like we normally do? It feels a little weird that he's so open to the idea of me spending the night over at Peeta's. I just thought that…well…he'd play the protective father role and give me the third degree about "well I was a teenage boy once, so I know how teenage boys think".

"Oh, no! God no! I'm going out with…Johanna tonight and then crashing over at her place after…no guys or anything like that…just us girls." I stutter the way I used to when I was younger and my parents had caught me in the midst of a lie.

"Well, you're an adult now and it's a free country, so yeah…even if you were going to, uh, be staying over at Peeta's place, that'd be fine….just be safe, OK?"

Fuck. This conversation just needs to end now before I begin to dissect the meaning of "be safe". "Um, will do. See you tomorrow then!"

I sling my bag over my shoulder and locate my purse before I turn and bolt for the door. Once I'm out of sight, I check to make sure I have my phone. That's when I hear the familiar opening scene of my mother's favorite movie. I peek around the doorway and hover there as I watch my father balance the tray of dessert in one hand and a wine bottle in his other.

After he sets the tray down on the coffee table, he takes a seat next to my mother and her head falls gently onto his shoulder as they stare at the screen. I can just make out a small sigh from my mother as _Gone With the Wind_ plays out on the screen in front of them.

Normally I'd roll my eyes or gag silently to myself at the sight of them and their unreserved displays of affection for one another, but this time when I look at them; it feels like I'm really noticing them as a couple for the first time. The subtleties that I never noticed before, or more like chose to ignore before. They're not just my mother and father right now, they're a couple.

I find myself smiling at the way he drapes his arm across her shoulders. The way he plays absentmindedly with the ends of her hair. The way he leans into her, resting his head on top of hers. My parents really do love each other and maybe – just maybe – it's not too hard to understand why two people would allow themselves to get lost in each other.

I never would have admitted it to myself before, but I think I might finally be able to relate.

* * *

"I am _not_ wearing this!" I yell as I toss the skimpy, frilly white tank top that Johanna insisted I wear across the room. "There's like…what…six inches of fabric on this fucking thing?"

Johanna and Madge burst out in laughter when the offending garment hits Johanna square in the face. "I wasn't fucking serious, Everdeen, even I wouldn't be caught dead in that thing!"

"Hey!" Madge pouts like we've actually offended her, "That's my favorite bar top!"

By the time I got here, Madge had already arrived and both were already dressed and in their pre-bar zone as they rifled through a pile of accessories to finish off their outfits. Madge was decked out in a barely-there jean skirt with a tight fitting tank top that read "_Country Girls Do It With Their Boots On_", which of course accentuated every damn curve the girl has. No doubt she'll be the center of attention tonight. To complete the outfit, she chose a pair of black angle winged cowboy boots and a straw cowboy hat with a rhinestone heart on the front; a very fitting outfit for town sweetheart.

Johanna on the other hand, had decided to forgo her usual black on black ensemble in lieu of a pair of dark washed boot cut jeans that I swear looked like they could have been painted on, with a blue and white plaid tank top. I had to do a double take when I first walked in the room because if it hadn't been for her hair, I wouldn't have recognized her based on the clothing choice. It's not that she doesn't look good in her usual clothes, because believe me, she fucking rocks it, but this is just…different. A good different. A different kind of sexy that says "I'm looking for a nice guy", and I hope to God that for once that's who she's trying to attract tonight.

The two of them hum and haw as they take in my comfy attire and makeup-free face, like a blank canvas before them. I was well aware that they had great expectations for me tonight, but as I watched them raid Johanna's closet and the enormous bag stuffed to the brim with colorful tops that Madge had brought, my palms started to sweat in reluctance. Is this what girls do nowadays? Share each other's closets? I've only ever had Prim to share clothes with and even that was a stretch, only digging though her drawers as a backup on laundry day.

I guess I should be used to being dressed by now, but I'm a bit weary when Johanna hands me a pair of tight boot cut jeans that are shredded and frayed across the thighs. "Um, doesn't leave much to the imagination, does it?" I say through an uncomfortable laugh. Upon a second assessment, I decide that they're not _that_ revealing, and once on I was surprised at how comfortable they actually are.

"So, being the uptight prude your are," Johanna says with a grin, "we decided to go easy on you." She hands me a plain with tank top and an orange and blue plaid shirt.

"Thank God," I groan as I take the garments from her hand and finish getting dressed. I check myself out in the mirror and smile at how my braid actually goes quite well with the outfit, but something seems…off. "Wait, what's the catch? Why am I getting let off so lightly?"

Madge laughs as she hands me a pair of plain brown cowboy boots and I slip them on. "No catch, so stop being so paranoid."

"It's because you're a claimed woman now," Johanna scoffs, "so we can't have you parading around half naked for all the eligible guys to see, gotta give us single ladies a chance you know!"

"Right," I mumble. Truth be told, out of our little trio here, I've always felt like the odd one out when it came to the looks department. I was late to grow boobs, my hips never really filled out, and I stopped growing in seventh grade.

"Oh stop being so hard on yourself," Madge coos as she hangs a silver chain with a chunky heart locket around my neck. "You're beautiful and now you've got one of the most gorgeous guys in town who's been pinning after you since the third grade."

"Wait, you know about that?" I look to both of them with wide eyes.

"Well, you'd have to be pretty clueless to not have noticed," Madge says with an innocent smile. Then out of no where, Johanna suddenly offers me a shot glass filled with an amber liquid.

"Shit, why am I always the last to realize these things?" I swipe my hand over my face in embarrassment and take the shot from Johanna. The liquid burns as it coats my throat and I feel my sinuses clear in an instant. "Never mind, let's just get this night over with."

* * *

"I'm going to go grab us a few drinks!" Johanna calls out as soon as we enter the bar. I don't have a second to respond with what I want before she disappears into the crowd of plaid, jeans, and cowboy hats.

"And I really have to pee!" Madge shouts over the music. "Wait right here and I'll be back in a second!"

Great. Not even five minutes in and I've already been left to fend for myself. I scan the packed room and can't help notice the vast age rage of people here. What surprises me even more is how many people, especially guys, are out on the dance floor, spinning around and stomping their boots against the wooden floor boards.

A sudden movement from the back corner catches my eye and I squint to focus in on what it could possibly be. Oh. My. God. Strategically positioned up on a slightly elevated platform is a mechanical bull, bucking widely as a girl in an impossibly short skirt tries to hold on for dear life with her legs clamped tightly around the hunk of metal and plastic. Well, I guess these cowboys know how to have an interesting time.

I find myself drawn closer to the small crowd gathered in the back corner to watch when suddenly the poor girl flies off the bull and disappears from view. I rush closer to see if she's OK but let out a sigh of relief when I see her rolling around on the cushioned floor surrounding the bull, laughing away. I can't help but laugh too when she finally realizes that her skirt is pretty much up around her waist and her bright yellow underwear is on display for everyone.

Once the girl's friends come to collect her and they clear the area, a guy wearing a green button up shirt and jeans that perfectly hug his ass hops on the bull. He looks out into the crowd and our eyes meet for a brief second. He tips his hat to me before giving a thumbs up to the bull operator and grips the horn on the fake saddle. I feel the blush on my cheeks as the bulls slowly comes to life and the guy begins to rock in time with the movements of the bull.

Fuck. Now I see the appeal of this damn thing when there's a person up there who actually knows what he's doing. It's kind of hot really. I have to look away, slightly embarrassed that I find this stranger strangely attractive. I have a _boyfriend_, a very hot and extremely sexy boyfriend who's probably thinking about me right now, wondering what I'm doing. And just like that, my body starts to respond of the though of Peeta and the guy on the bull fades back into the other nameless faces in the crowd.

I take another look around the place in hopes of spotting Madge or Johanna. Madge should definitely be back by now. It's then that I notice that there's a second floor that surrounds the dance floor and it's just as crowded as the main floor. However, the greater ratio of males to females resting on their elbows against the metal railing, watching the dance floor like hawks, is kind of creepy. I'm thankful that Johanna and Madge went easy on me and let me wear this shirt instead of that skimpy white lame excuse for a tank top they offered at first. All the pervs above me would have gotten a much better view of my lady bits than I would have liked if I had.

My lips flatten into a disapproving frown when my eyes catch sight of a familiar mop of dark hair atop a tall, brooding figure nursing a beer. Fuck. I try to slink back into the crowd in an attempt to remove myself from his line of sight, but it's too late. The flash of his steely, grey eyes is unavoidable and I hate that he still has the ability to trap me in his gaze. I'm frozen in my spot as girls in short jean skirts and frilly tank tops dance the two step around me to the likes of Brooks and Dunn.

Gale's eyes appear to brighten as he lifts his beer up to me slightly and smiles. I finally come to when a busty platinum blond wearing way too much eye shadow and way too much bronzer almost hip checks me across the room. Her enthusiastic attempt to dosey doe with a guy who looks like he could pass as a Roy Rogers stunt double from one of the classics westerns my father loves to watch, has landed me on my ass on the dance floor.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" she giggles, covering her mouth with her hand. "I didn't see you there!"

Roy Rogers offers me his hand in a gentlemanly gesture to help me to my feet but I'm too stunned with embarrassment to accept his help. I feel like every pair of eyes in the room is on me, but in reality no one has really batted an eye as they spin and shuffle around me still in time with the music. Before I can gather myself up, an arm snakes around my waist and effortlessly hoists me up to my feet.

"Are you all right?" Gale asks as he tries to dust off the back of my jeans. I flinch and pull away when his hand skims over my ass.

"What are you doing? I'm fine!"

"You have dust all over your ass, Catnip," he laughs, holding up his hand defensively. "I was just trying to help."

I try to steal a quick glance over my shoulder to access the damage and sigh in frustration. He's right. In a lame attempt to covertly dust off my backside, I hear Gale stifle another laugh.

"Ha ha," I reply flatly.

"You're welcome by the way."

"I don't remember asking for your help."

"Hey, it if wasn't for me you could have been trampled on by a pair of boots." Just then, Gale grabs my wrist and pulls me out of the way as another couple twirls by, oblivious to the world around them. I snatch my hand back like it was on fire and stare at the spot where his fingers had touched my skin just moments ago. "And that's twice now. Feel free to thank me at your earliest convenience." He winks as he takes another sip from his beer.

I roll my eyes away from him and they settle back onto the crowd on the dance floor. "Thanks," I mutter.

"You're welcome."

"I never would have thought line dancing to be so…hazardous to my safety." I scan the room again in hopes of finding Johanna or Madge but they're still no where in sight. Probably off buying tickets for that damned mechanical bull no doubt.

"Hey, are you sure you're OK?" he asks again, this time though there's a hit of sincerity to his tone.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a hit to my ego more than anything." I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly, hoping the redness of my cheeks has almost faded away by now.

"That ego of yours was always easy to bruise, wasn't it?"

I narrow my eyes at him as I scrutinize his words. Was that supposed to be an insult? Or just a lame attempt at playful banter? Regardless of which, who's he to call me out on it? "If I'm not mistaken, you have a bit of a problem in that department too. And by 'a bit' I mean major."

"Lighten up, would ya? I'm just fooling around." He runs a hand through his hair and smiles back at me again.

What the hell? Why is he acting like we're friends? I study his face but can't seem to figure out if he's trying to fuck with my head or if he's actually trying to be friendly. If it's the latter, he's failing miserably. And what the hell is he doing back at home? It's secretly been bugging me ever since I first found out he was here. I need answers.

"Gale, why are you here?"

"It's a free country, Catnip. Can't a guy enjoy a fucking beer at a fine establishment such as this?"

The slightly glazed over look in his eyes tells me he's already buzzing from the alcohol which is why he seems to have lost his filter. He's never this talkative. Especially not in public. The words are flowing a little too freely from his mouth right now.

He takes another swig of his beer and turns his attention back up to the upper floor. "I know. Not exactly my kind of place."

I manage a muffled laugh as I raise an eyebrow at him. "You don't say."

"If you must know, I'm here with Thom," he says as he gestures above him with the neck of his beer bottle.

I look back up to the second floor and spot Thom leaning up against the railing. He's deep in conversation with a petite brunette who's got her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. If memory serves me correctly, Thom Renolyd's was Gale's partner in crime when we were younger. The two could always be seen running around town with skinned knees and dirt covered faces. I tried on many occasions to follow them in hopes that they'd let me tag along on their adventures through the forest behind our houses. However, being bigger than me, they were always able to loose me in the woods once they caught on that I was shadowing them.

I vividly recall the time that I somehow stumbled upon an old tree fort not too far into the woods from the edge of our backyard. I couldn't believe that I'd never come across it before. It looked like someone had added on to an old deer hunting tree stand that was tucked discretely up into the forest canopy. Odd sized scraps of wood had been used to make a makeshift roof and a rope ladder attached to the floor boards dangled against the tree trunk. When I curiously inched forward to get a better look at the structure, movement from a small window on the side of the fort caught my eye. I froze.

"Hey! What are you doing here?" a voice called down to me.

I stood silent but brought my hand up to my face to shield away the bright sun in hopes of getting a look at who inhabited the fort. A second shadowed figure moved in front of the window.

"Oh, it's just that stupid girl who's been following us around lately. Just ignore her and she'll go away eventually." The dismissive tone in Gale's voice was evident, but I didn't budge from my spot.

Gale's head finally poked out from the window and he stared back down at me, his face streaked in mud like war paint. "This is our tree house and there's no girls allowed! Just go home, Catnip!"

"My name is not '_Catnip'_!" I screamed back at him, frustration finally causing me to break my silence. "It's Kat_niss_…and you know that Gale Hawthorne!"

"Whatever," he laughed as he rolled his eyes at me. "Go home or else I'm telling my dad, and then he'll tell your dad that I caught you out here on your own. I know you're not supposed to be out here without a grown up."

I huffed in annoyance because he spoke the truth. My father had warned me on numerous occasions that I was not to wander out here on my own and that if I was ever caught I'd be grounded for a whole month. I hadn't been caught yet, but the threat from Gale was one that I knew shouldn't be taken lightly.

"Fine," I spat back as I crossed my arms across my chest in defeat. I turned away from him with my head held high to march back to my backyard, but in a last attempt to keep whatever pride I still had, I yelled back at him over my shoulder. "I hate you Gale Hawthorne, don't you ever forget that!"

The look in his eyes when I uttered those words surprised me. He looked shocked and…hurt. But what did he expect? Threatening me like that? I didn't make an effort to follow them anymore after that and it wasn't until a few years later that we finally came to a silent truce at our family functions, acknowledging each other but not really speaking.

I'm brought back to reality when the beat of the song slows down to a ballad and people on the dance floor start to pair off in couples, embracing each other as they dance in slow circles around us. I take a few steps back so I'm out of the way and Gale follows to settle beside me against the wall.

"That's not what I meant. Why are you _here_…as in back home. You said you got a job at school."

His eyebrows furrow together and a little line forms between them. I can almost see the wheels spinning in his head as he mulls over his response.

"Well, nothing was in stone at the time. So that was…a lie." His gaze shifts to the floor briefly before they settle on the bottle in his hand. "Well, kind of a lie. I did have something lined up, but it wasn't just for me…it was…it was for you too."

I stare back at him blankly for a minute, unsure of how to respond. I purse my lips and glare at him suspiciously, trying to hide the curiosity that's tugging at the back of my mind. "What…what do you mean…for me too?"

"Well, when you mentioned that you didn't want to go back home for the summer and wanted to find a job at school, I, uh, talked to one of my professors. He said he had a few placements for a couple of research assistants for the summer. So, I asked him if he could hold two spots for us, but I wanted to talk to you about it first of course. You know how you get when people go around making decisions on your behalf." He chuckles to himself and runs a shaky hand through his hair again and he juts his chin out slightly before he takes another sip from his beer.

It's strange, seeing Gale like this. He's never had to explain himself or his actions to anyone before, let alone to me. He did whatever he wanted, no questions asked. But now, seeing him like this, it's…different. He seems frustrated, unsure of himself even and I'm not sure how I feel about this new side him that I didn't even know existed.

"Then what the hell happened?" I hiss between clenched teeth, remembering how pissed he was when he walked out on me that night.

"What?" His eyes flash to mine, shocked by my brazen tone. "If anyone should be asking that question, I think it's _me_. What the fuck happened between us?"

It's then that I realize where we are again and look around quickly to see if we're making a scene. Fortunately, no one is even paying any attention to us as smiling yet oblivious couples continue to dance behind us. And then there's us. Exes hashing out our dirty laundry in public. I make sure to lower my voice when I finally answer him. "Uh, if I recall correctly, _you're_ the one who stormed out that night without so much as another word, or phone call, or text. Sounds to me like you didn't give a fuck about our relationship." I turn to look away from him and take a deep breath, trying to calm myself before I lose it. "If you could even call what we had a relationship," I add in an attempt to worsen the sting.

His mouth gaps open wide and I see the short strings of his temper beginning to unravel. He releases a loud sigh, his fist clenches around the bottle in his hand, and his back straightens, making him look taller than he already is. To add to the effect, he pulls his shoulders back and glares back at me as he towers over me. My hands go instinctively to my hips, trying to match his intimidating stance.

Gale takes deep breath before he finally speaks, but I'm surprised when his voice is low and calm. "You think I didn't give a fuck? Me? Are you serious? When I told you I got a job on campus, I expected you to show at least an ounce of interest, or even a congratulations or something. But no, all I got from you was a shrug of indifference.

"I saw it in your eyes, Katniss. Tell me the truth. You didn't give a shit if we were together over the summer, did you? That's probably what you had planned all along, wasn't it, to break up with me before school ended? So when I said I got a job at school, that was your out, wasn't' it?" He breaks away from our intense stare and looks to the ground.

I continue to stand there. Frozen. Speechless. Confused.

"Silence," he mutters under his breath, "typical."

His words snap me out of my daze and I can feel the anger bubbling in my chest. "You're a real piece of work. You know that, Gale Hawthorne?"

"Don't I at least deserve an answer?" he asks, his voice almost a whisper and full of hurt and…remorse? I stare back at him dumbfounded, at a complete loss for words. "I thought I meant something to you. I wanted us to work, you know. You and me, we just…worked. It was so effortless…so easy."

It was effortless. It was easy. But that didn't make it right. Even I, in all my naivety, knew that wasn't a strong enough foundation to build a solid relationship on. Relationships were ever changing. With change came obstacles. And without much backing our relationship, well, that would have put us at a severe disadvantage if we were to ever hit a bump in the road.

So I guess in the end we proved my theory correct. Gale shouldn't have walked out on me that night. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. Was that not proof enough that we weren't meant to be together? Maybe we could have stayed friends, at one point, but we definitely couldn't remain a couple.

"Gale," I sigh, wishing we could backpedal to the beginning of this conversation and start over. "Listen, I'm sorry things ended the way they did, really. But, you and me, it's just…it's not going to—"

"Hang on a minute, I'm not done. Please, just hear me out. I know that ship has already sailed and whatever your reasons were, one thing is certain. You're not going to be able to avoid me the rest of the summer, you know that right? Our dads, being best friends and all, and Rory and Prim, well, that's just a matter of time now. And then, well, there's us—

"There is no _us_."

I catch a glimpse of someone waving frantically behind Gale and soon realize that it's Johanna and Madge, both staring at me with concern plastered all over their faces. Johanna mouths something to me which I think is an offer to come and save me, but I just shake my head slightly, hoping to God they don't come over right now.

"Well, yeah, you made that pretty clear, but that's not what I meant," Gale says, regaining my attention. "I just think it'd be easier on us both if we tried to be friends."

"Friends," I repeat, letting the word roll off my tongue to test it out, unsure if I like the way it sounds. When I entertained the idea a few minutes ago, I thought I could do it. But now that he's actually proposing it, well now I'm not so sure. "I don't know Gale, haven't you noticed? I don't have a very reliable track record for maintaining solid friendships with exes."

"Yeah, about that, Gloss is a dick. Always has been."

"You sure about that? You two seemed really chummy at the bar the other night," I grumble.

"Well, things aren't always as they seem. Listen, I couldn't give two fucks about that guy, and just for the record, I spent the majority of that night trying to keep him from embarrassing you any further. Even after your, uh…after Peeta arrived." I narrow my eyes at him at the mention of Peeta's name. He takes another swig of his beer and his lips twitched against the rim as if he's holding back.

I release an audible sigh which catches his attention. "Go on already. Out with it."

"It's just, I don't know, is he your boyfriend? And if he is, are you sure that's a good idea? To be jumping into another relationship so soon?"

Now it's my turn to stare back at him with my mouth gapping open. I'm not sure what I'm more taken aback by, the comment itself regarding how I should handle my love life or the hint of jealously behind his tone. Didn't he just say we should be friends and be civil to each other?

Gale was never the jealous type. That was always me. Suddenly, the image of him sucking Delly's face off in the back of the darkened movie theater pops into my head and I find my voice again. "Who are you to talk, Gale?" His eyes widen at the sudden sharpness of my tone. "Maybe you should listen to your own advice! What the fuck was that anyway? With Delly of all people!"

He just stares back at me, blankly for a second and then all the muscles in his face seem to release any tension that was there before. He finally presses his lips into a tight line, his bottom one almost completely hidden by the upper. He slowly lifts a hand to my face, almost as if he's approaching a feral cat, and he cups my chin. I almost recoil at his touch, unsure if his intentions, but I don't move, frozen in place by the intensity of his eyes.

"I don't want to fight with you, Katniss. And about that thing with Delly," he says, pausing to brush his thumb along my jaw line, "that was the second biggest mistake I've ever made."

I know it's an open ended statement, but I can't help but humor him. I swallow the lump in my throat. "What was the first?" I whisper, fully aware the answer.

He stops his movements and drops his hand from my face. "Do I really need to answer that?" he replies dejectedly. I shake my head slowly, still trying to figure how to process all of this. He still likes me. Fuck. Am I supposed to feel flattered? What do I even say to that? Thankfully, he continues, "Like I said before, I just want us to be friends again, I miss that. And I promise I won't give you any more shit about Peeta, even though I still think you're way too good for him."

"Yeah right," I mutter under my breath, completely amused by the thought. The day that I'm too good for Peeta Mellark is the day hell freezes over.

I consider the pros and cons of his offer over in my head. He does have a point. Given our family situation, it'd make life a hell of a lot easier for the both of us if we could just be normal when in the same room together. And if he keeps true to his promise not to give me shit about Peeta, then I guess we can try to make this work. It's not like I'm still harboring any residual feelings for him and he fully knows where I stand my relationship with Peeta.

I take a deep breath and steady my voice.

"Fine, let's give it a try."

* * *

**Author's Note:** So before anyone gets all worried that this rekindled friendship is going to put a damper on our plucky Everlark, I shall lay your fears to rest, it isn't. If you haven't noticed, Katniss has done some "maturing" in her relationships lately and this is just another lesson she's learning…it's called reconciliation. Anyway, I promise the next chapter will be more light-hearted; besides, we need to see Katniss up on that mechanical bull! ;)

As always, thank you so much for your continued support and I hope you're all still enjoying the ride! I look forward to reading your comments!

Come and visit me on tumblr (pookieh)!


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer:** This fanfic is rated 'M' for language and sexual content. I do not own any of the characters of The Hunger Games.

* * *

**Chapter 19: Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy**

"What the fuck was _that_, Everdeen?" Johanna practically shrieks as she shoves a bottle of beer into my fidgety hands.

"Don't worry about it," I mumble, waving her off casually, "it was nothing."

"Nothing my ass," she frowns.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a second…was that Gale Hawthorne you were talking to?" Madge asks as she blatantly watches him ascend the stairs to the second floor, in search of Thom no doubt.

"You better fucking believe it," Johanna smirks. "Everdeen's been holding out on you. Go ahead, Madge, ask her about it."

"Katniss!" Madge squeals before flashing me an impish smile. "Really? I didn't know you two were…_friends_."

I cringe at the way she accentuates the word "friend", fully aware of what she's implying. Great, now she probably thinks we were just fuck buddies. Although the more I think about it, I guess in a sense we kind of were. But still, I hate the way she's staring me down as though she's judging the purity of my character. Fuck it.

I don't have to explain myself if I don't want to, so I'll just play up vague card. "Well, up until about five minutes ago we weren't, but I guess…now we're _friends_."

"And…you're OK with this?" Johanna asks with a doubtful edge to her voice.

"Yeah, it's fine," I deadpan, hoping she'll give it up already.

"And…he's fine with this?"

"Damn it, Jo! Yes! He's the one who suggested it in the first, so he must be."

Johanna drums her fingers against her beer bottle before she looks up to the second floor of the bar suspiciously. Madge is looking anxiously between us, fully aware that she's missing out on some sort of critical piece of information. Johanna, though, she's obviously still unconvinced. "I don't know, Kat, you sure he's over you?"

"Come on, he's already been all over Delly Cartwright and who knows whoever else by now, so I can guarantee he's way past me. We just needed some closure, that's all."

"I don't know. I'm not sure I like it."

"Well, good thing I don't need your permission then."

"OK, simmer down girls! We're supposed to be having a fun, girls night, remember?" She turns to Johanna with a diplomatic smile. "Jo, Katniss is a big girl and I'm sure she can handle herself, so stop your worrying. Now, let's get in line before it gets too long!"

"In line?" I look to Madge curiously and she points her chin out to the back of the bar. "Oh god no! Please tell me you didn't buy tickets for that stupid thing?"

"Of course I did! Three tickets, so we're all taking that _stupid_ thing for a spin!"

I let out an annoyed groan and the thought of digging my heels into the floor to stand my ground crosses my mind. But with these two on my case, the odd aren't in my favor of talking my way out of this. Accepting my fate, I resentfully raise my bottle to Madge and proceed to chug as much of the contents as I can in one large gulp. I'm going to need way more alcohol if I'm going to get up on that mechanical death trap.

"Here, this will help," Johanna chuckles and hands me a shot glass. I snatch it from her and down the clear liquid before she can even tell me what it is. Doesn't matter. "Thanks," I cough as the liquid burns down my throat.

There are only four other girls in line ahead of us and based on the average ride being less than a minute; it'll be my turn in no time. I have to admit though, it's pretty entertaining watching people up on that thing. Especially girls who are in no way or form dressed for the occasion, like Madge. Oh well, she deserves it for putting me up to this.

After I watch another girl gets thrown off the bull, I catch two people approaching us from the corner of my eye, grinning like idiots. Of course. Thom and Gale.

"Howdy ladies," Thom drawls in a lame mid-western accent. "So you're all gonna brave the bull tonight, I see. Can't wait to see this!"

I study Gale's face as he hides behind his beer bottle, trying to discreetly check out Madge, sizing her up from head to toe. When she catches him, she blushes and he winks at her. Well, that didn't take too long I guess. I shake my head and finish off the rest of my beer while I lean up against the railing behind me to wait my turn.

It's almost comical watching the way my single friends interact with single guys and it's hard to decide who's more eager to impress who really. Madge is pulling out all the typical moves, flipping her hair over her shoulder, twisting the ends of her blond waves around her finger, hand up on her hip as she sways back and forth to the music. And Gale is just eating this shit up! Then there's Johanna, already in Thom's face with the crude jokes and practically humping his leg in the process.

Thank god I'm in a relationship. But then why is it that I'm the only one standing around here alone like a fifth wheel? Fuck this sucks. Some girls night this turned out to be.

I catch the tail end of a comment that Madge makes about country music and dancing that spurs me to pipe up and make things more interesting. "You know, Gale, when a girl says she likes to dance, you ask her to dance." I fully expect him to stare daggers into me, but he throws me for a loop when a grin spreads across his face and he shoves his beer in my direction.

"Exactly." It's all he says before he has Madge in tow and they're headed out onto the dance floor. I stand there and stare, dumbfounded by what I just witnessed as Gale effortlessly twirls Madge around in circles in time with the music.

"Well I'll be damned," I mumble to no one in particular, but Johanna pinches my ass and I swat her hand away like a fly. "Hey, where'd Thom go?"

"Said he spotted a friend he just _had_ to say hi to, although said friend just happen to have a rack three times the size of mine. I guess I shouldn't take it to heart though, she looked like a total ditz anyway."

"His loss, Jo, I wouldn't be too offended. It's Thom Renoylds, you could do a hundred times better than him."

"Yeah, you're right. So, what do you make of that?" She gestures to Madge and Gale on the dance floor and shakes her head. "Can't say I'm surprised though, she's had a thing for him for as long as I've known her."

"Really? How'd you know that?"

"Are you honestly asking me that question? It was pretty fucking obvious if you ever chose to pay attention. But oh wait, you're clueless, so never mind."

I try to catch her off guard and hip check her so she'll hopefully land flat on her ass for a comment like that, but she's already a step ahead of me, expecting some sort of retaliation and doesn't budge. Defeated yet again, I turn my attention back to the dance floor. "As for those two, fine by me. Who knows, maybe Madge's carefree spirit is exactly what the doctor ordered for that temper of his, tame the flames so to speak."

"I guess. I'm just not keen on friends doing other friends sloppy seconds."

"Jo, knock it off! You make it sound like I'm some sort of player or something. Besides, weren't you the one who just two minutes ago as saying how you weren't sure if he was still hung up on me? Seems to me like he's moving on just fine."

"Katniss?"

"What?" I snap, not wanting to continue with this conversation.

"You're up, brainless," Johanna laughs as she slaps me on the back.

"Oh, OK." I fish my phone out of my back pocket and hand it along with my purse over to Johanna for safe keeping. I ditch my empty bottle on the ground next to my feet and I turn back to Johanna. "I can't believe I'm actually doing this, you owe me big time."

"Break a leg!" she shouts as I kick off my boots and I flash her my middle finger. I'm suing if I get so much as a scratch on me, considering that I'm at the mercy of that damn operator in the corner. Speaking of that operator, we make eye contact as I approach the bull and he beckons me over. What the hell does he want?

He's smiling confidently and when I'm within earshot, he leans in, "Longest ride of the night so far has been a minute and five seconds. I hope you know that just because you're cute, doesn't mean I'm going to go easy on you."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Just a heads up." He chuckles and then takes off his hat and plops it down on my head with a wink. "Here, for luck."

I flash him a cheeky grin as I turn away and call out over my shoulder, "I don't need luck!"

Damn, when did I get so cocky with strangers? Must be the alcohol kicking in. But how could I back down from a challenge like that? Now I have to show this guy up.

I do a quick walk around the hunk of plastic and before me and assess what I have to work with. There aren't any stirrups and holding on to the horn of the saddle alone will do fuck all. I'll have to clench my thighs like hell to even have a chance of staying on this thing.

Johanna hollers something I can't quite decipher over the music, but her enthusiasm is just the confidence boost I need to swing my leg over the saddle. I wiggle around until I find a comfortable spot and take a deep breath as I test my thighs against the sides of the bull. Damn. This thing is wide. And these jeans sure are slippery against the plastic. Whatever, maybe if I just go with the flow I won't have anything to worry about.

With my new game plan in mind, I grip the horn of the saddle with one hand and signal to the operator with a thumbs up. He doesn't waste anytime and the bull jerks to life with an unexpected spin that almost causes me to lose my grip. This guy's definitely going to play dirty.

I begin counting down from sixty-five. All I have to do is stay on until I reach zero.

The second time he spins me, I'm ready for it but when the bucking starts, that's when things really start to get interesting. I learn quickly that I feel more in control when I just give in and let my hips mimic the movements of the bull. Once I stop trying to anticipate the next move and just react, this thing is a piece of cake.

By the time I get into a groove, I realize that I've already lost track of my countdown but it doesn't matter anymore, this is a fucking rush! I tear my eyes away from the imaginary spot I've been fixated on and find Johanna who's hooting and hollering at the top of her lungs like a crazy person. I can just make out her voice above the music as she screams, "Ride em' like it's blondie!"

It's then that my concentration falters and I don't react quick enough when the bull does a spin/buck combo that sends me soaring into the air. I roll into the fall when I feel my shoulder hit the floor, but I'm pleasantly surprised when the cushy mat swallows me up. I'm still sprawled out on my back, my body shaking with laughter when someone finally plucks me off the floor and drags me back to Johanna who wraps me into a huge hug.

"You were fucking amazing! Holy shit! You dominated that thing!"

When my laughter finally subsides, I steady myself against her shoulders. That's when I realize that it was Gale who recovered me from the floor and now Madge is the one poised atop the bull, grinning widely. "Thanks, that was so awesome! Oh wait, how'd I do for time?"

"Minute and eighteen seconds, Catnip, you rocked it!" Gale pats me on the back and offers me an enthusiastic high five that I gleefully accept.

"Pssh," Johanna huffs. "Just wait till I get up there. I'm gonna wipe the floor with your minute and eighteen seconds, Everdeen!"

She hands me back my purse and phone but just as I'm about to pocket my phone, it vibrates in my hand. I unlock the screen and my eyes light up instantly when I notice there's a text message from Peeta.

_Peeta: Stop teasing me!_

Huh? I stare at the message and frown, wondering what the hell he's talking about as my fingers hovering hesitantly over the keypad. Before I can type out a message though, Johanna bursts out laughing and I glance up to see if Madge fell off already and has her skirt up around her waist like that other girl I saw when we first got here. But no. Johanna's staring straight at me, looking guilty as fuck.

"What'd you do, Jo?"

She throws her hands up defensively and takes a tentative step back. "Nothing! Just helping you out, that's all," she manages between unconvincing giggles.

"You're a bad liar, Johanna Mason." I scroll through my outbox and gasp when I find a picture of me with my legs clenched tightly around that damned bull as I clung on for dear life. I can't believe she took a fucking picture of me, and of course the moment she took it, the front of my shirt looked like it was straining to burst open. She had to send it to Peeta. With a message of course.

_Can I ride you instead of this guy? ;)_

"What the fuck, Jo! I can't believe you sent him this!"

In the heat of my outburst, I fail to detect Gale as he creeps up behind me and seizes my phone out of my hand, holding it up over my head just out of reach. He lets out a muffled laugh as he steals a glance at the photo. Madge shuffles over not a second later to join Gale at his side, curious to what all the commotion is about.

"Let me see that!" Madge says as she grabs the phone from Gale and starts to furiously type out another message.

"What the hell, Madge! Of all people, you're supposed to be on my side!" I pout, crossing my arms across my chest in defeat. What a bunch of assholes.

Madge chuckles innocently before handing me the phone and I snatch it back eagerly to see what she wrote. "I am on your side, Katniss, just trust me. You'll thank me later."

Not convinced, I tentatively scroll through my outbox again, preparing myself to be completely mortified by what I find.

_I'm not teasing. That's a promise ;)_

"What's with you girls and the damn winky face emoticon? What are we, in grade three?" I roll my eyes dramatically at Madge as I begin to type out an apologetic explanation to Peeta regarding my friend's apparent lack of tact, when my phone vibrates again. Shit.

_Peeta: Be outside the bar in 15 minutes. I'm coming to get you._

Thank god! About time he came to save me. I try to suppress a smile, not wanting to give Madge and Johanna the satisfaction of knowing that I'm actually grateful for their ridiculous antics. Instead, I smugly stick out my tongue to gain their attention. "Well, looks like I'm turning in early tonight ladies and you have Madge here to thank for that. Peeta's on his way to pick me up."

"See? I told you!" Madge kisses the air in my direction and winks before grabbing Gale's arm and dragging him back onto the dance floor.

"I can guarantee you won't be 'turning in' any time soon, missy," Johanna taunts. "Besides, now that Madge seems to have found somebody to take her home, I need to step up my game and lasso my own cowboy! Later cock block!"

And just like that, I'm left alone again.

So much for a girl's night out.

* * *

Peeta is already waiting outside the bar in his truck by the time I gather my belongings and bid my friends, including Gale, a proper goodbye. As I approach the passenger side door, the window slowly rolls down and I can see him leaning over the center console, his face lit up by the glow of the stereo.

"Need a ride, little lady?"

"In more ways than one," I counter with a devilish grin when the image of the photo Johanna took of me on the bull flashes through my mind. I toss my purse at him through the open window before opening the door and practically throwing myself into the seat. I lean over and place a quick, wet kiss to his lips. He looks up and flicks the brim of the cowboy hat that I forgot I was still wearing.

"Where'd you score that from?" he asks curiously.

"I was on the winning end of a bet with a cowboy and thought I'd keep it as a trophy."

"That's my girl," he says with a wink as he shifts into first gear and we're on our way.

I find it extremely difficult to keep my hands to myself during the short drive back to his apartment, and before I know it I'm sucking and nipping at Peeta's earlobe while attempting a horrendously off-key rendition of Big and Rich's Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy. By the time we pull into his parking spot behind the bakery, I've pretty much crawled out of my seat and into his lap.

"Easy there," he says with a warning tone, "can we at least try to make it up to my bedroom this time before—"

The ringing of his phone interrupts him mid sentence and he frowns as he looks down at it, the screen blinking brightly with each ring.

"Are you going get that?" I ask with a raised eyebrow after the third ring. "Never know, might be important."

"Fine," he sighs annoyingly, grabbing his phone from the cup holder. I sit back in my seat and pull out my phone, trying to appear occupied so it doesn't look like I'm ease dropping. "Uh, oh hey! Yeah, um, good to hear from you…great…things are going great…been keeping myself busy…how about you?"

I scroll through my inbox on my phone to see if I have any new e-mails, but there's a big ole goose egg staring back at me. Great. Nobody loves me. I find myself curiously drawn back to Peeta's conversation since I'd have expected him to wrap up the call my now, gauging by the apparent bulge I've caused that's straining against the seam of his pants.

"Yeah, back home but I actually have my own place for the summer," he says, followed by a chuckle.

Must be one of his school friends he's talking to, so I tune him out and before I know it, I'm wrapped up in an intense round of Word Mole. When I hear his phone beep, indicating that he's finally hung up, I look over to study his face. He sighs deeply before placing the phone back down into the cup holder.

"Everything OK?"

"Yeah, yeah. Nothing important, just like you said…" He trails off when his gaze shifts down to my neck, his eyes inching down the opening of my shirt to the slight cleavage that's peaking out from behind the buttons.

I still can't help but revel in the feeling that I have this effect on him. Had he always looked at me this way before and I just never noticed? The hunger in his eyes causes the tingling between my legs to start up again. I clench my thighs together tightly in hopes of finding some relief from the already building anticipation as I watch him suck in his lower lip.

"Like what you see?" I tempt as I lean back into the passenger seat to get more comfortable.

He doesn't answer me though; he slowly traces his finger down my cheek, across my collarbone, and then down my neck, leaving a burning trail along my skin as he goes. He stops when he reaches the top button of my shirt, his eyes flashing up to meet mine momentarily. I suck in an anticipating breath when his lips graze along the "v" of my shirt and he places a soft kiss at the valley formed by the tops of my breasts. I lean my head back and it hits the headrest hard, causing my back to arch as though I'm urging him to continue his exploration of my chest.

His hands glide deftly across my curves over my shirt, his fingers fanning out as he reaches around to my back. They creep further and further down to the waistband of my jeans. A breath hitches in my throat when he uses the pad of his thumb to trace the exposed skin at the small of my back. I hear him laugh quietly to himself and open my eyes to find him grinning at me from ear to ear.

"What?"

"Did you wear this shirt on purpose? Orange is my favorite color you know."

"No, I had no idea, but I'll definitely keep that in mind."

The fact that it just so happens to be his favorite color is definitely a lucky coincidence, considering that it was Madge and Johanna who made me wear this outfit tonight…or was it? Now that I think about it, I wouldn't be surprised if this was somehow planned.

He releases his hold around me and returns to his seat, grabbing his phone and removing the keys from the ignition. "Now, I'm getting you up there if that's the last thing I do."

"Fine," I huff, trying to feign disappointment but failing miserably due to the huge grin on my face.

Peeta's already at the top of the stairs by the time I collect myself and bound up after him, taking two steps at a time. The apartment is still dark but a glow coming from his bedroom lights my path. I toss my stuff on the couch and toe off my boots as I quickly unbutton my shirt, adding it to the pile I've already created. By the time I reach the bedroom, I sneak a quick peek through the doorway just in time to catch him peeling off his shirt, the muscles of his shoulders flexing which only enhances how broad he truly his. He flops down on top of the bed and lays on his back, in nothing but his box briefs of course, and weaves his hands behind his head with a smirk

"Care to make good on your promise, cowgirl?"

I'm not sure what comes over me. Maybe it's the sight of him splayed out on the bed in front of me, ready for the taking. Or maybe it's the alcohol, but whatever it is, I have the sudden urge to devour him. I mosey on over to the edge of the bed and do a little twirl before I unclasp the front of my jeans and slowly shimmy out of them, bending over to ensure he gets a full on view of my ass.

Peeta let's out a low whistle and I can't help but burst out laughing. I love this, seeing this sexy yet playful side of him that's not afraid to make his girlfriend laugh during foreplay. I love how me makes me feel like I'm the most attractive women in the world with just a quick flash of that boyish grin of his. And above all, I love that he's mine.

Once my jeans are off, I spin around again the hell of it and reach up to remove the stupid cowboy hat I'm still somehow wearing.

"Wait!" he calls out. I freeze, unsure of what could possibly be wrong and eye him curiously. "Um, can you eave it on?" he asks timidly.

I slowly lower my hand from the brim of the hat and rest it on my hip. "You're serious?" He nods enthusiastically and I just shrug. Why not? This could be fun. With a reassuring smile, I lower myself onto my hands and knees and inch my way up his body until my face is hovering just over his hips. He looks down at me with eager eyes before I lightly brush my lips over the bulge in his boxers. He curses under his breath and catches me off guard when his hips erratically buck up off the bed and he smacks me square in the face with his erection.

"Shit!" he hisses as he sits up off the bed to cradle my head in his lap. "Are you alright? Fuck, I'm so sorry!" He tips the hat back and pulls my face up to access the damage. But when he hears me snort and burst out into a fit of giggles, relief washes over his features. "Damn it, I thought I broke your nose!"

"Oh…my god…could…could you…imagine!" I manage between laughs. Peeta stares back at me with wide eyes, unsure of what to make of me. "I'm fine, really, you barely bumped me."

"Well fuck." He leans back and crashes onto the bed, covering his eyes with his forearm, clearly embarrassed. "I sure know how to kill the mood, don't I?"

I tug at his boxers which momentarily coaxes him out from under his arm. "Hey, you didn't ruin anything. Like I said, I'm fine, and besides…I have a promise to keep." He frowns but when I position my face between his legs and tug at his underwear again, his lips twitch and before I know it he's smiling back at me shyly.

"But I have to make it up to you somehow, after a stunt like that," he says with an apologetic tone. I just shake my head. To prove my point of making good on my promise, I stare back at him with a wicked grin as I tug his boxers the rest of the way down his legs. His gaze shifts up to the ceiling as he lets out a shaky breath, "And I'll definitely make it worth your while."

"Promise?" I purr as I grasp the base of his cock and give it two quick jerks. Peeta sucks in a shallow breath and nods his head furiously, already past the point of forming even one word answers. I scramble up onto my knees, still gripping him in my hand and position him at my entrance, running the tip between my folds to spread the wetness that already pooled there. The way his chest rises and falls rapidly as he breathes is hypnotic and I find myself already rocking against him in tempo with each breath.

Not wanting to waste anymore time, I sink down onto his length, sheathing him completely and begin to slowly rock forward and backwards, my walls welcoming the fullness of him inside of me. Moments later, his palms find purchase on my hips, but he doesn't use his hands to guide my movements, instead he lets me continue to control the pace. Emboldened by being allowed in the drivers seat, I pick up speed and begin to roll my hips along with the rocking motion I've already established.

"Katniss," he warns, tightening his grip on my hips. "I'm not going to last very long if you keep that up."

I don't listen though and my eyes flutter closed. Being on top, I realize that my hands are free to wander, so I decide to explore myself. I grasp my breast with one hand while and reach down to fondle my clit with the other. Peeta mumbles something, but his words are garbled and incoherent as I focus in on the building heat and sensation between my thighs. The swift and steady pace I've settled into in combination with the angle of my hips causes him to hit that sweet spot deep inside me over and over and over again. Under normal circumstances, I'd be embarrassed by my high-pitched moans, but I'm far too gone to give a shit and my toes begin to curl as muscles tense. It won't be much longer now, I'm so close and gauging by Peeta's labored panting, so is he.

He sits up and suddenly takes control, gripping my hips firmly and holding me in place as he erratically thrusts up into me. My arms wrap around his neck for support and he buries his head into my shoulder where he plants sloppy, wet, open-mouthed kisses. With one last profound thrust, he finally causes that damn hat to fall off my head, and I shatter around him as he lets out a muffled moan. He follows me over the edge only seconds later.

I lazily lower my forehead onto his shoulder, and as my orgasm begins to subside, I clench my walls around him and he pulsates inside me one last time. We're a panting, hot mess of tangled arms and legs and when I finally open my eyes, I spy the cowboy hat that didn't stand a chance sitting upturned on the floor. Peeta peeks out from my shoulder just in time to see me grinning like an idiot.

"What?" he asks before capturing my lips in a languid kiss.

"Um, it's a little embarrassing but..." I pause and shake my head before letting out a tentative sigh. Peeta stares back at me, his eyes still dark and hazy from being spent.

"Just spit it out."

"Well, I'm pretty sure I lasted longer on top of that mechanical bull than I did on you."

"So, is that a compliment then?" he chuckles as he nuzzles his way back into the crook of my neck and inhales deeply.

"Damn straight it is."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Hope you guys liked Katniss' time on the bull…oh and on top of Peeta of course ;) Lot of stuff happening in the next few chapters, just so you're prepared, but don't worry, lots of Everlark still :)

Thank you to everyone who has kept with me so far and to those who have followed and favorited! Don't be shy and please leave a review, I love hearing from you!

Come and visit me on tumblr (pookieh)!


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer:** This fanfic is rated 'M' for language and sexual content. I do not own any of the characters of The Hunger Games.

* * *

**Chapter 20 – We All Fall Down**

"Oh my god…Peeta, right there…oh fuck…don't…stop…just a little…harder…keep going—"

"Katniss, if I go any harder you're gonna bleed!" Peeta playfully scolds as he drops his hand from my back.

"Fine! I'll do it myself!"

Too lazy to roll off my stomach, I awkwardly twist one arm over my head and the other up my back as I desperately seek relief with my fingernails between my shoulder blades. All I've been doing for the past three hours is scratch at the seemingly infinite number of mosquito bites that litter my body.

Today was a shit day. Haymitch couldn't keep the smug look off his face when he informed us that we'd be staking out a potential sight for a new monitoring well out in an area of the woods that had recently turned to wetlands. The armpit of the quarry, the rest of the guys called it. With wetlands came water. With water came humidity. With humidity came…mosquitoes. The winged messengers of the devil himself.

The first sign that it was going to be a shit day was when I went to grab my bug jacket from my bag, only to realize that I'd forgotten it on the kitchen counter at home. That meant I had to go routing through the box of communal field supplies where all the jackets I found were three sizes too large and hung around my knees like a dress.

The second sign that it was going to be a shit day was when we weren't even ten feet out into the wetland when the terrain suddenly changed to a muddy mess that rivaled quicksand. I could feel it suction around my boots with each timid step, but just when I felt confident with my footing, it was already too late. As I took my next step, the muscles in my leg responded before I could comprehend that my foot was now bootless. I sank down into the mud, burying my leg up to my knee in cool, wet swamp muck. It was a challenge trying to keep my balance as I slowly retracted my foot from the muddy mess. Gloss wasn't much help either, not until after his laughter subsided and my barrage of empty threats.

The third sign it was going to be a shit day was when we somehow managed to take a wrong turn at the last marked maple tree and ended up surrounded by tall grass. It reminded me of an eerie Animal Planet special that was on the other night about the hidden dangers of Sarangetti plains. Expect here it was damp. That's when the mosquitoes arrived. Swarms and swarms of them. The bloodthirsty little buggers were relentless in their attack and I'm surprised I didn't choke on any as we made our escape.

"Easy there," Peeta warns again, "you're going to regret it if you scratch too hard."

"In this situation it isn't even a possibility for me to scratch too hard. I have bites on top of bites!" Frustrated beyond belief, I shove my face into the pillow and let out a pathetic groan. "I look like I have the measles!"

Peeta chuckles and I poke my head out to watch him retrieve a long white tube from the first aid kit he found under his bathroom sink. "This says 'use to relieve itching from bug bites including black flies, mosquito—"

"Gimme that!" I shout, reaching across the bed to snatch up the miracle tube. I twist off the cap and toss it to the side as I start to frantically compress the tip to every bite visible on my arms. The liquid is cool to the touch but the relief is only temporary and I can already feel the numbing affect starting to wear off. "Fuck it! This shit is useless!" I throw the tube unceremoniously across the room and spot Peeta attempting to stifle a laugh from the corner of my eye. "It's not funny, Peeta," I pout over my shoulder.

He bites his lower lip to keep from smiling as he eyes rake over my bare back, assessing the damage from the bites. He leans forward and hooks his fingers into the waistband of my panties, tugging them down just far enough so that my ass is uncovered. "How the hell did they get you down _here_?"

"Hungry little bastards," I mumble. "Is there anything else in that first aid kit that'll help?"

I hear him upturn the contents of the box onto the bed. "I'm afraid not, but if you're really desperate, there is something we can try. My grandmother used to swear by it, but I've never tried it."

"What is it?"

"You'll just have to wait and see," he says with a smirk.

I eye him suspiciously as he tosses everything back into the first aid kit and disappears into the kitchen. The sound of cupboards opening and closing piques my curiosity and then I hear a faucet in the bathroom turn on followed by the sound of running water. Is he running a bath? I slowly push myself fully up off the bed to sit cross-legged, careful not to cause too much friction against the sheets and set off another chain reaction of itching.

As I wait patiently, still practically naked and trying to focus on anything else but the incessant urge to scratch, my eyes are drawn to his mural on the wall. He's been working on it since I was last here, so I scoot to the foot of the bed to get a better look. My eyes dart around randomly, unsure of where to start my search for any more hidden wildlife in the group of trees he's added to the other side of the riverbank. When nothing pops out at me right away, I lean in a bit closer to scrutinize a suspecting tree trunk.

"OK! You can come in here now!" Peeta calls out, startling me and I almost tumble off the edge of the bed.

As I approach the bathroom, the smell of breakfast wafts through the air and assaults my nostrils. Did he cook something? No way. He couldn't have whipped up anything that fast. I inch the bathroom door open further and find Peeta standing over the tub as he sprinkles something into the steaming hot water. I take another sniff. Hmm. Cinnamon and…nutmeg? I take a few steps closer to inspect the tub.

"Peeta, what is _that_?" I ask, pointing into the tub.

"Oatmeal." He grins widely as he sets the spice containers down on the bathroom counter.

"Please tell me I'm not supposed to eat it. If I am, I sure as hell hope that tub is clean." I take a few steps closer and inspect the contents. It's two-thirds full of a goopy slurry that resembles watered down oatmeal, but the scent is heavenly and my stomach betrays me and grumbles loudly. "Or maybe you plan on stewing me? I'm warning you now, I don't think I'm very meaty and I think I'd taste a bit stringy at best."

He lets out a chuckle as he leans over to shut off the water. "Of course not, you goof ball." On his way back up, he places a quick kiss behind my ear, the only place I was spared from those damn mosquitoes. "And for the record, I happen to love the way you taste," he whispers as his hand dips between my thighs and his fingertips lightly graze over my underwear. I groan impatiently and try to lean into his touch, but he pulls his hand away all too quickly and smacks my ass playfully. "Now get naked and hop in. I'll go find you a towel."

"Ugh, you're such a tease!" I'm not sure if he hears me as I shimmy out of my panties and kick them off to the side. I place a steadying hand on the tiled wall and dip a toe into the tub to test the temperature. It's pleasantly warm but when I wiggle my toes together they're left feeling gooey and a bit sticky. Hmm. I'm not sure about this.

Peeta saunters back in with a towel and a frown on his face. "Oh stop being a wuss, it'll help with the itching, I promise."

My hands go to my braid and I fidget with the loose strands at my neck until I've managed to secure them to the back of my head. "But it feels funny," I sulk.

"Oh just sit down already, you'll be fine." He grabs me by the waist and starts to lower me into the tub. When I'm finally seated, I lean back slowly to rest my head against the back edge.

I wiggle around a bit to get more comfortable and my ass slides easy against the bottom of the tub. I can't help but giggle because it feels so weird. I'm a little tempted to stick my tongue out and taste it, but then I remember that my dirty, disgusting body is stewing in this muck, so I just start to play with it in my hands.

"Feel any better?"

"I hate to admit, but yes, I don't feel itchy anymore."

"Good." Peeta lowers the lid of the toilet down and takes a seat, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "So, now that I've got you trapped in there for a few minutes, I thought now would be a good time to talk."

Talk? Shit.

I stop trying to form oat balls in my hands and look over to him hesitantly. I can already feel my pulse starting to race and my muscles tense up as though my body is preparing to go into defense mode. What on earth could he possibly want to talk about right now? I swallow to try and clear the lump that's formed in my throat. "Oh…oh yeah? Uh, what'd you want _talk_ about?" I cringe when my voice squeaks at the end.

"Well, I think we can both agree that things between us have been…progressing a little quicker than expected." He pauses for a moment as though he's waiting for a response.

"Um, yeah, I guess. But, is…is that a…a bad thing?" I ask timidly.

Where is he going with this? Oh God, it's a bad thing. It must be. Why else would he want to have a "talk"? Is this where the other shoe drops? Did he finally come to his senses that I'm not what he built me up to be in his head? That I don't meet the standards of the perfect girl he's fantasized about while growing up? Seriously? Are we really having this discussion right now while I'm up to my neck in fucking oatmeal?

I take a deep breath to try and slow my pounding heart. Maybe I'm overreacting. Why would he invite me over, get me naked, and whisper things like how he likes the way I taste if he was just going to dump me two minutes later? My face must be a dead give away for my inner turmoil because he eyes suddenly widen.

"No! No, of course not!" he gasps. "You won't find me complaining one bit," he grins and I let out a sigh of relief. "I just wanted to make sure that we're both, you know, on the same page. About where things are going, where we want this to go."

"Jeez, Peeta!" I huff as I sink back down into the tub. "Don't scare me like that! I thought you were…well…you know…" I trail off when I realize how ridiculous I sound. Damn. Looks like _l'm_ the one with the reassurance issues now.

He gives me a confused look before he slowly shakes his head. "You really thought I was going to break up with you just now?"

I bite my lip, the guilt starting to wash over me when I see the hurt and disappointment in his eyes. "I'm sorry," I whisper before I look away, too ashamed to meet his gaze.

"Hey," he says and I feel his fingers tug at my chin to face him. "Don't be sorry." His lopsided grin eases the guilt a bit and I offer him a small smile in return. "It took me practically my whole life to you to give me a chance, so I'm not about to let you go that easy."

He leans forward until his knees hit the floor and he weaves his other hand into my hair. I lean forward to meet him half way and our lips meld together into a soft and comforting kiss. It's too late when I realize that my hands have found their way into his hair too and there's oatmeal all over the floor and gobs of it are dripping down the back of his neck.

I pull away, thoroughly embarassed. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" I retract my hands and try to wipe up the spilled oatmeal off the edge of the tub.

"Katniss, stop. It's fine."

I don't listen and keep trying to clean up the mess I made, getting more frustrated when I realize that I'm only making it worse than before. His hands find mine to halt my movements.

"Katniss, I said it's fine." I look up, totally expecting to find him peeved by my stupidity, but he's grinning back at me like a Cheshire cat. "Just means I get to join you in the shower later to clean up." Before I know it, he pulls his shirt up over his head and it joins the pile with my underwear on the floor.

"Well," I gulp, taking in the span of his broad shoulders and the light blond hairs that pepper his chest. I wonder if there will ever be a time that I am no in complete awe of Peeta's body. "I hope you don't have anything else you want to talk about. If so, you better put that shirt back on if you want me to pay attention."

Peeta snaps his fingers in front of my face to draw my attention back up to his, still grinning widely. "You'll just have to try hard then to concentrate because no, I'm not done yet."

"Fine," I mumble before I flop back into the tub, creating a wave of oatmeal that almost laps over the side of the tub. "Oops."

"So yeah, as I was saying. Since we're both OK with how this relationship is proceeding, I was wondering…" He takes a deep breath and looks away to stare down at his feet. "Would you…uh…like to have dinner with me and my dad sometime? If not, I totally understand, it's just that I kind of told him about you and how you're my girlfriend and all and yeah, it would really mean a lot to him if you did and—"

"Peeta," I interrupt, putting a stop to his rambling. A small smile creeps across my face when his uncertain eyes meet mine. He's usually so calm and confident so it's kind of endearing seeing him all flustered and unsure of himself. "Of course I'll have dinner with you and dad, but um…what about you mom?"

"Yeah, about her." He pauses and I watch his adams apple bob slightly as he swallows. "That was the other thing I wanted to, uh, talk to you about." He runs a shaky hand through his hair and I can feel my muscles starting to tense again.

Did she hurt him again? My eyes quickly asses his upper body, then his arms, and then his legs for any possible bruising I didn't notice before. Once again, it's as if he can read me like an open book.

"I know what everyone in town says about her, regarding my brothers and me, but this time it's not what you think. I wanted to tell you first before you heard some twisted version through the rumor mill. God knows no one in town has anything better to do than talk about everyone else's business, and I can only imagine the shit storm that'll come from this later." He takes a deep breath and stares at his hands. "My mom left us. I mean, she left my dad. She packed up and left town three days ago."

I stare back at him blankly for a few seconds, unsure if I heard him correctly. Did he really just say what I think he just said? She left them? She's gone? For good?

Divorce has always been a bit of touchy subject around here. The relentless string of rumors that the gossiping housewives spin during their free time of playing "he said, she said" has seen to that. Growing up I only knew of two kids whose parents separated, and in both cases those kids were subject to hushed whispers and scrutinizing stares as they walked the halls at school. It was usually only a few weeks later when they were suddenly uprooted from class and moved to another town to begin a split childhood between two homes. In this town, having divorced parents was a one way ticket to becoming a social pariah.

I still remember how Johanna was treated when she first moved here. The fact that neither of her parents wanted anything to do with her, you'd think her situation would be worse. But no, at least she had an aunt and uncle who were happily married and able to provide her with a "strong and supportive family unit", as she used to quote. Yeah right, that was the biggest load of horse shit I'd ever heard.

It's then that I realize that my mouth has been hanging wide open while I stared off into space. Peeta's still studying me, waiting for a reaction. But I have no idea what to do. What do I say? Oh, I'm so happy to hear that your witch of a mother finally left you guys, although I think she'd be better off sporting a bright orange jumpsuit serving her time in the local penitentiary, but you're better off now anyway? Or, I'm sorry she walked out on you? But I'm not sorry. Any way I try to spin this, I couldn't be more relieved! I'm fucking ecstatic! Good riddance and I hope the door hit her on the way out! I chew on my lip as I try to find the appropriate words to answer him.

"Peeta, I-I'm sorry if this sounds…insensitive, but I'm glad she's gone," I whisper. I search his face for any hint of hurt or anger that my words could have caused. Instead, he just looks back down to his hands as he wrings them together nervously.

"It was my fault really, why she left."

I can feel my eyes bulge as I stare at him incredulously, unable to believe that he could have been the cause. "What? What do you mean, _your_ fault?"

"Last week, when I stayed late that one night to finish up a cake order, my dad came in to check on me and, well, we got to talking. He's been on my case lately about why I've been in such a good mood even though he's been working me like a dog. My dad knows me too well though, and he knew it had something to do with a girl. So I told him about you, about us. I hope you don't mind."

I shake my head and motion for him to continue, eager to see where he's going with this. His eyes are still trained at the floor, the muscles in his arms tense as he repeatedly squeezes his fists. I don't think I've ever seen Peeta this nervous, and it sets me on edge too.

"He was really excited about the whole thing, which was a little weird, hence the dinner invite." He chuckles, but I can still sense the uneasiness in his tone. "Then as our conversation progressed, we got onto the topic about how he's not getting any younger and that he's been thinking about an early retirement. My brothers want nothing to do with the bakery, now that they're both married and are busy with their own lives and families, so I guess I was the most obvious choice."

I recall hearing something from my mother last fall about how Ryan Mellark, the wild child of the family, surprised everyone by returning home for Thanksgiving break to announce that he was engaged to a girl he'd met at school. Apparently they planned to elope, but Mrs. Mellark somehow got wind of the idea and put a stop to it when she threatened to cut him off from all financial aid. He still had a few semesters left at college which meant he'd be hard pressed to pay for his tuition, rent, and general living expenses. In the end they agreed to have a small ceremony with a select few friends and family at the Mellark's property located just on the outskirts of town.

I've never actually been to Peeta's house; it's out of my way and I've never had a reason to before. Finnick described it to me once, saying that it was just as big, if not bigger, than his own house. He said the inside looked like it had been decorated from floor to ceiling by Martha Stewart herself, ready to be photographed and featured in a center spread of _Better Homes and Gardens_.

It's ironic really, now that I think about it. How Peeta's mom went to such great lengths to fool everyone around her into thinking that they were an all American family to be envied by everyone around them. Or maybe it was all just a ploy to fool herself, thinking she could brush all the horrible things and pain she'd inflicted on her family, under the rug where no one would see. Out of sight, out of mind.

"Katniss?"

Shit, how long have I been ignoring him? When did I become such a space cadet? "Sorry," I mumble as I pull my legs up into my chest and rest my chin on my knees.

"It's OK. I know it's a lot to dump on you in one evening, but it's now or never. So as I was saying, my dad knows that it's been my dream ever since he taught me how to bake my first batch cookies, that this is the life I want. He confessed that it's always been his plan to one day pass the bakery along to me and, but what surprised me most was when he said he thinks I'm ready…now. Whenever I want to take over, all I have to do is say the word and the bakery is mine."

Peeta's eyes brighten when he finally looks up at me, little crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes with hope and excitement etched in his face. He really is beautiful when he smiles. But it's short-lived and his face falls before he continues.

"That's when my mom walked in. She'd been eavesdropping from the front of the bakery the whole time, so she heard everything of course. I don't think I've ever seen her so pissed. She wasted no time with the usual verbal bashing of my life choices before she turned to my dad and started laying into him too.

"Apparently, he never mentioned anything to her before about wanting to take an early retirement. Then she went on about how I'm not ready to handle the kind of responsibility that comes with running such a business and that I'm not even done school yet. I have no idea why she even brought that up; she always hated my decision to go to art school."

Peeta's breathing has picked up and it's visibility obvious that he's trying to hold back on my account. Even his heel has taken on a mind of it's own as he begins to tap it nervously against the tile floor.

"Then she had the nerve to bring you into all of it, can you believe it?" My shoulders hunch up at the thought of what his mother said about me. What ever it was, I'm sure Peeta will censor it and give me the watered down version out of respect for my feelings. "She started spewing out shit like 'you'll never see that bakery again if you decide to commit your life to someone like her" and "you're a complete idiot if you think that girl looks at you with anything other than dollar signs in her eyes" and—"

He stops short and doesn't finish the rest of his sentence, clearly afraid that he's already said too much.

"Can…can she do that?" I manage to squeak out. "Keep you from getting the bakery I mean?"

Peeta lets out a labored breath and his shoulders fall as though all of the tension has suddenly melted from them. He shakes his head and then scrubs his lightly stubbled face with his hands.

"Nah, she's all empty threats. There's no way she can ever touch the business. It's been in my dad's family for generations, and thanks to good lawyers, she doesn't have a say in anything he does with it."

I nod my head slowly, letting his words sink in. Then the gravity of it all finally hits me. From here on out, Peeta's life will never be the same. In one day, he's gained the opportunity for the future that he's always wanted, but at the expense of losing a parent. A whacked out, needs her head examined and sent to a rehab facility kind of parent mind you, but a parent never the less. And I played a part in the fall out as well.

Then I recall a few words "commit your life to someone like her". What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Certainly not what I think it meant. There's no way she was referring to…marriage, was she?

An uneasy feeling starts to spread through me and my insides start to churn. The once pleasant smell of oatmeal and cinnamon that occasionally wafts up from the tub suddenly makes me want to throw up.

"Katniss, are you alright? You look like you're going to be sick."

"No, no, I'm fine." I swallow back the urge to purge my stomach and take a calming breath. "Although, to be honest, sounds more like it was _my_ fault more than anything."

Peeta's head snaps back up, his eyes narrowed and lips pursed. "What? No, don't you dare think this is _your_ fault. It's been a long time coming, and I'm pretty sure everyone knows that. Besides, I make my own decisions and you're a part of my life now, so it's not your fault she can't accept it." He leans over to cup my chin in his hand, brushing his thumb against my lips. When I place a soft kiss to the pad of his thumb, his face softens and a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "By the way, have you told your parents about us yet?" he asks.

I'm actually quite grateful for the change in subject; I need some time to let this settle in before I can fully wrap my head around it all. "Yeah, I told my father the other day actually. I assume he's told my mother by now, but she hasn't confronted me about it yet. Oh, and Prim knows of course." He nods his head slowly and his gaze shifts to an invisible spot on the wall behind me. "Is something the matter?"

Seriously? Did I just ask that? That was smooth, real smooth. What _isn't_ the matter? I honestly don't know how he's keeping himself together with all those mixed emotions running around inside his head. If it were me, I'm sure I'd be in a downward spiral of anger and relief right now.

"I was just wondering, so they know that you stay over here? With me that is, right?"

"Umm…yeah?" He nods his head again slowly as though I'd answered his question with a five page essay instead of a two word sentence.

"And they're OK with it?"

"Seriously, Peeta?" I cock my head to the side and frown. "After everything you've just told me, you're actually worried about whether or not my parents approve of our sleepovers?"

"Kind of," he answers sheepishly, unable to meet my gaze. "We've barely been together a month and I don't want them thinking that I'm only in this for…uh…physical gratification."

"What does it matter if we haven't been together for very long? I thought you just said you were fine with how things were progressing?"

"I'm fine with it. I don't care what people think about me, but it's you I'm worried about. I mean, compared to most people around here, your reputation is still pretty pure."

I snort and cover my mouth with my oatmeal covered hand, immediately regretting the decision when I feel the stickiness all over my face. People think _I'm_ pure? What does that even mean? Before I can ask, Peeta waves a dismissive hand at me.

"Never mind, I just don't want people, especially your parents, to think my intensions are anything but sincere. I guess I just want your parents to like me, that's all."

Peeta's eagerness to earn my parents acceptance is painfully endearing. It's something that's never even crossed my mind on my part. What also gets me is that we both know full well that the shit he's going to go through once the word of Mrs. Mellark leaving gets out. But here he is, worrying more about me and my reputation and how my life will be affected. How do I even deserve someone like Peeta?

I lean over the edge of the tub, careful not to spill anymore of the now cooled oatmeal onto the floor, and somehow manage to capture his lips in an awkward and sticky kiss. I can feel him smile against my mouth as my hands find their way into his hair once again. I'm not sure who's the first to pull away, but when we do, I continue to grip his hair and rest my forehead against his.

"Trust me," I say in my most encouraging voice possible. "You have nothing to worry about. Besides, my parents have nothing to compare you to anyway."

"Wait, what?" he asks in astonishment.

"I've never brought a guy home before to, you know, meet the parents."

A small smile creeps across his face at the realization. "So, I'm the first then?"

"Yes, Peeta, you're the first." I place a chaste kiss to his lips before releasing my grip in his now gooey hair. I try to splash him but my failed attempt only leaves him laughing triumphantly as he rises to his feet. My eyes rake down his body and I watch his hands as his fingers make quick work of the fly of his jeans.

"Now…how about that shower?"

* * *

"So, I heard you're quite the bull rider?" I wrench my shoulder away as Gloss tries to slap at it in what I assume is a playful gesture. A huge grin is pastured smugly across his face and he raises his brows suggestively. "No need to be embarrassed, Kat. It's kinda hot really, if you ask me."

Kat? Nobody calls me "Kat", especially not guys like Gloss. "Good thing nobody asked you, so shut your mouth."

Today was an early start. The days have been getting hotter much earlier than usual, so Gloss and I agreed to start an hour earlier than normal in hopes of finishing our weekly routine measuring all the groundwater wells before noon. We've only been out here for two hours and I've already been tempted a dozen times already to leave him here, stranded in the middle of the woods with no map or cellphone.

Gloss raises his hands up defensively but doesn't bother to hold back his laughter. I'd have hoped that Gale would have taken our renewed "friendship" status seriously and been able to keep his big mouth closed about my little rodeo experience over the weekend. But I guess I assumed too much.

After an awkward call from Madge on Sunday, I found out that Gale had taken her home later that night. She invited him in, but Gale was a complete gentleman apparently. He left her safe and sound on her doorstep, thoroughly kissed of course, Madge had added giddily.

"I wish I'd have been invited," Gloss whines as he sets down the backpack he's been carrying and retrieves the notebook from the front pocket. "Seems like I really missed out."

I bend over and swipe up the monitoring equipment off the ground and dig out the key to the well from the pack. "I thought you said you had big plans? Something about some sexy redhead?"

"Aw, you remembered! You do listen to me," he chuckles. "And yes, she was damn fine, but turns out she wasn't my type. She came over. We made out. I just wasn't feeling it though, so I sent her home."

"You're a pig, you know that right?"

"Ouch, that was a little harsh, don't you think?" He opens up the notebook and starts flipping through the pages to find where we left off last week. I roll my eyes and turn away from him to get started on the well. "And I'm only kidding," he calls out to me. "God, you really think I'd do that? Give me some credit. She never came over, something about cramps or some shit like that. You girls and your female issues."

"Seriously?" I balk, slipping the key into the lock and unhooking it to free the lid. "Oh my god, just stop already!"

If it had been any other day and I wasn't too busy trying to come up with a snarky comment to Gloss, I'm sure I would have sensed something was off as I flipped the lid open. It's all too late though when I finally notice the muffled hum coming from underneath the lid, like a trapped hummingbird rapidly fluttering its wings in a metal cage. That's why the first prick on the my back of my hand takes me off guard and a surprised yelp leaves my lips. Then there's another one on my arm. And another one on my neck.

A strange fogginess quickly floods my mind and my arms and legs start to feel like there's heavy bags of wet sand tethered to them, dragging me down. Everything seems to be in slow motion. I just make out Gloss' face as he falls to his knees in front of me. What? I'm not sure if I've said it out loud or if I'm just thinking it. His mouth is moving but I can't hear a sound.

What is he saying?

My eyelids start to feel heavy and I only now realize that I'm no longer standing and that I'm on my stomach, the muddy ground cool against my cheek. When did I get here? How did I get here?

It doesn't matter though; all I want to do is curl up and fall asleep. So I don't resist when the darkness finally takes me over.

* * *

**Author's Note:** So I told you guys lots of stuff was going to happen in this chapter and I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Thank you as always to everyone who has stayed with me on this story and to those who have followed and favorited! Don't be shy and please leave a review, I love hearing from you!

Come and visit me on tumblr (pookieh)!


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer:** This fanfic is rated 'M' for language and sexual content. I do not own any of the characters of The Hunger Games.

* * *

**Chapter 21: Take it Easy**

I drift in and out of consciousness, the heavy fog that's settled over my mind never quite fading away completely. At times I'm unsure if this is real. Maybe it's all just a bad dream that I'm desperately trying to wake up from. If that's the case, I'm failing miserably.

Once in awhile, I catch a glimpse of light that flashes between my eyes, interrupting the black oblivion I'm lost in. At other times, it's like a kaleidoscope bursting open, releasing thousands of colors behind my eyelids. Everything seems so surreal though. Colors are too bright, too vivid, and shiny even.

There are voices too. Some I recognize, some I've never heard before. But no matter how hard I try to concentrate, their words are always too muffled and too distant for me to understand.

Then there are the smells. Most of the time they're pleasant. Like the familiar smell of home or the earthy scent of the woods behind my house or peculiarly enough, of freshly baked bread. Other times it reeks of a pungent odor I can't quite place, as though someone has doused the entire room in bleach. It burns my nostrils and I just want someone to open a window, but my eyelids are too heavy and the muscles of my jaw won't respond.

At one point, as I hover between consciousness and sleep, the fuzziness miraculously lifts. I can just make out two distinctly male voices having a tense conversation; one is easily recognizable as being my father but the other seems vaguely familiar.

"What the hell happened out there?" My father's voice is raspy with a harsh edge to it. I've only ever overheard him swear a handful of times, never before in Prim's or my presence.

"Like I said, Jake, I'm looking into it." The second man's voice is slightly slurred, as though he's hung over or hasn't had a decent nights rest in days.

"You better be, Haymitch. You see that? That's my little girl lying there unconscious in that bed."

Haymitch? Haymitch! How did I not recognize him? What is he doing here? Where is here? Where the fuck am I?

I try to remember what happened and how I got here, wherever here is, but I've hit a mental roadblock. I try to call out to them, to tell them that I'm here and that I'm awake. But none of my muscles want to cooperate, no matter how hard I will them to. Not even my arms or legs twitch when I strain to move them.

"I know," Haymitch whispers, his tone noticeably softer than before. "Like I said, I've been going through the reports, or lack there of, and I might be on to something. But I'm not sure. So before you get all excited and try taking this to upper management all by yourself, just take a moment and take a step back, alright? We need all our geese in a row before we do this."

"Ducks."

"Huh?"

"Ducks. We need all our ducks in a row."

"Ducks, geese, who gives a shit. Seriously though, Jake, whenever she wakes up, you give me a call. I need to talk to her."

There's a long pause before I hear the sound of feet shuffling away from me, followed by the squeak of an opening door.

"Did you talk to that other kid? The one who was with her?" The edge to my father's voice is no longer present and I can sense the desperation in his tone. It pains me to hear him like this, he's usually so strong, the one who holds it together when the rest of us can't. I try to reach out to him again, to let him know I'm alright.

"Yeah, I talked to him. He's still a little shaken up but he said it…"

The clarity of Haymitch's voice falters and slowly turns fuzzy, as though I'm suddenly listening to their conversation over the loud static of a television while wearing a pair of earmuffs. Before I know it, the fuzziness quickly fades to a low, muffled buzz and I can no longer decipher his words. My body feels woozy again and it's as though someone's covering me up with an invisible blanket that steals away all of the sound and light from the room.

No! I need to stay awake!

But it's no use.

* * *

I'm not sure how much time passes before the fog lifts and my hearing is restored again. I'm suddenly hyper aware of my surroundings. It's a little unnerving really, not having a full set of senses to rely on, in my case only my hearing, sense of smell, and touch. The comforting bread scent is back again but it mingles with that of the woods which means my father is still present.

"You need to get some sleep." My father sounds tired; perhaps he should take his own advice.

"No, it's OK, I'm fine."

A sense of familiarity tweaks at my memory. I know that voice. The smooth, tenor tone sends shivers down my spine and a bolt of electricity shoots through me to my toes and fingertips. My body recognizes him before my mind does.

Peeta!

Adrenaline rushes through me and I try with all my might to move my limbs, to reach out to him. Peeta yawns and I hear what I assume are his footsteps to the right of me. Someone takes my hand and rubs small circles into my palm soothingly, the slightly calloused fingertips causing my skin to burn with each pass.

"You sure? You haven't slept since she got here." I can tell by my fathers tone that he's frowning. "Listen, she's not going anywhere and neither am I, a few hours of rest will do you some good. Go home, get some food in you, and take a nap. I'll call you if she makes any improvements."

"You're probably right." Peeta pauses and yawns again. "Here's my number, please don't hesitate to call me, no matter what time it is, when she wakes up."

It's not lost on me, his choice of words. "When" she wakes up, not "if". Peeta, always the optimist.

"You have my word, son."

"Thank you, Mr. Everdeen."

My father laughs lightly. "Like I said, just call me Jake. 'Mr. Everdeen' makes me sound old."

Peeta chuckles as he releases my hand and my heart pounds in my chest with each footstep as he moves away from me. I don't want him to leave, but my father's probably right. Who knows how long I've been like this. Hours? Days? Hell, weeks for all I know. And who knows how long I'll stay like this? My spine tingles at the thought and I try to focus on what I can hear around me to prevent my mind from going into a depressing spiral of uncertainty.

The room is eerily quiet though, expect for the monotonous hum coming from the AC register which must be located above me. I'm freezing but there's obviously nothing I can do about it.

My father sighs deeply before he takes my hand and squeezes it gently. It's warm and comforting, like Peeta's. I can only imagine what an emotional wreck he is right now.

"Wake up, sweetie, please?" His voice is tense and strained. "Come back to me."

I try to squeeze his hand back but nothing's changed, it's no use. The familiar heaviness soon returns, but this time I don't even try to fight it. There's no use. I'm tired of fighting it.

* * *

The third time I awake, my eyes are heavy but they no longer feel like they're glued shut. This time I'm somewhat hopeful when I test out the muscles of my lids. They open. My head spins for a slip-second as everything around me comes into focus and my eyes adjust to the dimness of the room around me. Where the hell am I? I'm acutely aware of something pressing into my arm when I try to stretch out my stiff limbs. It's an IV.

I'm in the hospital. Well of course, that explains the sterile smell of bleach.

I trace the various tubes that tether my body to the machines next to me, one that beeps away quietly while another looks to be monitoring my heart rate. It's probably a good idea to take things slow, no sudden movements that might bring on the dizziness I've been trying to fend off during the few conscious moments I've had.

My breathing evens out as I sit and stare at the line on the monitor as it moves in rhythm with my pulse, momentarily mesmerized by the glow of the screen. Feeling a little more like myself, I wiggle my toes just to make sure I'm not dreaming. Something heavy at the foot of the bed moves and pulls my attention away from the monitor.

It's my father.

He shifts again, but this time his head pops up, his eyes alert as he stares back at me and blinks. He jumps to his feet to round the bed and he's next to me within seconds. "Oh, hun," he sighs, "I'm so glad you're awake. How are you feeling? Are you in any pain? Can I get you anything?" He lifts his hand to my forehead as though he's checking my temperature, but I know he has no clue what he's doing. It's something he's seen my mother do no doubt when I was sick, just an overprotective reaction given my weak state. I manage a small chuckle but my voice doesn't sound like my own.

I blink a few more times before I assess the rest of my body. Everything appears to be in working order. Besides the slight ache behind my temples, I feel surprisingly normal.

"What happened?" My voice cracks and I swallow a few times to try and coat my throat. "Why am I in the hospital?

"Don't you remember?" His face takes on a worrisome look. "Something stung you. You were at the quarry, out in the woods and whatever it was that got you, it made you pass out." He takes my hand in his and I can feel it tremble slightly. "You had us all worried for a bit there."

I swallow again but it doesn't help. There's a glass of water on the table next to me that I try to reach for, but the damn IV gets in the way.

"Here, let me get that," my father insists.

I take a long, greedy gulp and drain the glass in a matter of seconds but it leaves my parched mouth unsatisfied.

"More?" he asks and I nod my head vigorously. He stands and quietly walks over to the mini fridge in the corner of the room and retrieves a bottle of water.

I squint and barely make out the outline of something hunched over against the back wall by the fridge. There's only one person with that kind of unruly blonde hair and I'm almost tempted to roll right off this hospital bed and crawl over to him. He looks uncomfortable, slumped over against the wall with a blanket tucked up around his shoulders, the movement of his shoulders as he breathes barely visible.

"He's been here ever since he found out you were admitted." I hesitantly break my gaze away from Peeta to watch my father as he takes a seat in the empty chair next to me.

"And how long ago was that?"

He sighs deeply as he cracks open the cap of the water bottle and drops a straw into it. "You've been out for almost two days."

Two days? I've been in and out of it for two whole days? How is that even possible?

I try once again to remember exactly what happened before I blacked out. I recall something pricking me, the stabbing pain that accompanied it like nothing I'd ever felt before. Whatever it was, it got me more than once.

I scan my arm and find a small raised red bump in my wrist and another on my forearm. There was one more. I lift my hand to my neck and sure enough, there's a small raised bump just above my collarbone. I recall the muffled sound of fluttering wings that I was too stupid and too slow to notice.

"Was it a wasp? I'm not even allergic to them, why did I pass out?"

"I don't know, sweetie, the doctors are looking into it."

I nod my head slowly. "Where's Mom? And Prim?"

"It's eleven o'clock at night. They're at home trying to get some rest. Which is more than I could get from this guy," he hooks his thumb over his shoulder towards Peeta. "You can thank your mother later for pulling some strings to allow him to stay past visiting hours. I promised that I'd wake him if…_when_ you woke up."

As if on cue, Peeta lets out a loud sigh and slowly sits up. The blanket falls from his body and he stretches his arms over his head with a lazy yawn. I clear my throat to catch his attention and his eyes widen immediately.

"You're awake!" He jumps up from the bench and is at my other side before I can say anything. "How are you feeling? Does your head hurt? Can I get you anything?"

I chuckle lightly and shake my head. "I'm fine, my father beat you to it, thanks though."

"I'll, uh, give you two a moment then," my father says as he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "I should call your mother." He gets up but pauses in the doorway, "Oh, and Haymitch said he'd stop by too, he needs to talk to you about what happened. Although I don't think he'll admit it, I think you worried him as much as you did us. I don't think he's slept since the incident."

Once the door closes shut behind my father, Peeta doesn't waste any time. He leans down and catches my lips, cupping my face in both his hands. If it weren't for the constant reminder from the monotonous beeps of my heart rate monitor and the IV invading my arm, I'd forget where we were. A hospital isn't exactly the most romantic scenario for a reunion, but oh well, at least it's a private room.

Peeta shifts his weight and hovers over me as he tries to deepen our kiss, but his elbow catches my IV, causing it to bend uncomfortably against my skin.

"Ah," I squeak as I pull away quickly.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry!" He jumps to his feet and his face drops into a grimace.

"It's OK, don't worry. It's probably a good thing you did anyway, if you didn't I probably wouldn't have stopped." Now that he's close enough for me to study his face, I notice the dark circles under his eyes. I frown and reach up to trace the pad of my thumb under one of his eyes. "You look tired."

He takes my hand and kisses my palm. "I'm just glad to see you're awake."

Peeta sits back down carefully beside me as I recall all that I can remember about what happened. He fills in the gaps for me from the pieces he's picked up from my father and Haymitch, but his voice tenses noticeably when I ask about Gloss.

"He's alright, he came by last night to check on you. Those are from him." He points to a bouquet of flowers on a small table next to me that I hadn't noticed yet. There are a few other bouquets, a bunch of balloons, and even a fruit basket. The sight of the fruit actually makes my stomach do flips and my mouth salivates.

I'm not a flower person, anyone who really knows me knows that, but I can't overlook the sincerity behind the gesture. I'm sure Gloss meant well.

"Which one is yours?" I ask with a straight face, gesturing to the table with my chin.

For a split second, Peeta's eyes widen in shock as though I'm serious. "Nice try," he smirks as he sits up and pads over to the back of the room to retrieve a bag off the floor. There's a big grin plastered across his face as he pulls a box from the bag and sets it down next to me. "I had to smuggle these in past the nurse at the front, do know how hard that was?"

He opens the box and in that instant I understand why, the heavenly scent of freshly baked bread and melted cheese wafts up to fill my nostrils.

"You didn't!" I grab for the box and steal a cheese bun before he can offer one to me. I stuff it into my mouth and the gooey cheese warms my throat as I swallow large bites. I manage a grateful moan as I reach for a second one, almost forgetting that Peeta's still there, grinning as he watches me stuff my face. "You should have stuck these on a sticks and made me a cheese bun bouquet, then I'd love you even more than I already—" I stop short once I realize what I've just said.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Did I honestly just say that? I'm almost too nervous to steal a glace over at Peeta, but I do and notice him freeze for a moment before he takes another bun out of the box and closes the lid.

He clears his throat and I watch the muscles in his neck tense but quickly relax a second later. "Believe it or not, the thought actually crossed my mind. But if I'd known I'd get that kind of a reaction out of it, I would have." I let out a nervous laugh and quietly finish off the cheese bun in my hand.

A knock at the door startles us both and Peeta quickly straightens up and turns around. Haymitch pokes his head through the doorway. "Oh sorry, didn't mean to interrupt."

"It's fine," Peeta says, taking a step back. He gives me a quick smile and hands me the last cheese bun before he walks to the end of the hospital bed and pats my leg gently. "I'll, uh, let you guys talk. I'll just be outside."

"Thanks," Hatmich says, inhaling deeply. The room falls silent again as Haymitch continues to hover in the doorway, studying me cautiously.

"Are you going to sit down? You're making me nervous."

He pulls up a stool next to the bed and clears his throat. "So, how you feeling?"

"Fine, I guess. A little tired."

Haymitch nods his head and stares at his hands. "So, it looks like as soon as you get out of here, we've decided it's best you take at least a week or two to recover. Then once you're back in the office, I'm going to keep you out of the field for awhile until, uh, this whole thing kind of blows over."

"What? You're going to confine me to the office? What am I going to do all day?"

Haymitch frowns. "Now settle down, Sweetheart. We don't want you over exerting yourself so soon after waking up." He leans back in the chair and props his feet up on the side of my hospital bed. I cringe at the sight of the soles of his beat up work boots. Seriously?

"I'll get you to do data entry, mostly," he continues, "maybe help Boggs with some of the equipment. He's got some equipment calibrations to run through and the annual inventory that you could—"

"Great, sounds like real riveting work." I cross my arms over my chest in protest. "And what did you mean exactly by 'until this thing blows over'?"

Haytmich takes a moment to study his dirty nails and I know that whatever answer he gives me will be filtered, need-to-know basis I'm sure. "Well, it didn't take long for word to get out to upper management about what happened. Snow got wind of it only a few hours after you were admitted to the ER and well, he's not to happy about it."

"What's that supposed to mean? Not happy about it? It's not like I went out there asking for any of this to happen!" The quiet beeps coming from the machine that monitors my pulse start to increase, coinciding with my heartbeat that begins to race in my chest.

"Of course this wasn't your fault! No one's saying it is, Sweethear, but until things calm down, I'd rather you kept a low profile. You're trip to the ER was the first recordable incident we've had in the health and safety department since, well…since Snow started sticking his nose in our policies and procedures."

All of the words I'd ever heard my father speak about Snow echo through the back of my mind and an uneasy feeling settles over me. "Is that a coincidence?"

"More like unlucky if you ask me, it was all a matter of time before something like this happened. But don't you worry about it right now, rest up and I'll see you in two weeks."

"I thought you said one."

"I said one or two, and after reacquainting myself with your cheery disposition, I'm going with two. Trust me, Sweetheart, it's for your own good." He drops his feet to the floor with a loud "thud" and pats his knees twice before standing up. "Got anymore of those boy's cheese buns left?"

"Sorry, fresh out," I mumble, shifting my gaze to the dark window only to see my reflection staring back at me. Haymitch hobbles to the door to take his leave, but before he does, I call out to him.

"Hey, what about Gloss, is he OK?"

"Yeah yeah, he's fine," he says as he waves me off. "But if you ask me, if it wasn't for him and his quick thinking, well…things might not have turned out so great on your end."

I swallow thickly at the thought. "What'd he do…exactly?"

"Apparently, as soon as you went unconscious, he called 911 right away, told them to have an ambulance meet him at the trail entrance closest to where you guys were. Said he carried you all the way and by the time he got there, they were already waiting. He called me right after they left for the hospital with you. When I picked him shortly after, the kid was white as a ghost."

He carried me? I conjure up a mental image of the monitoring map and from what I can remember; the closest entrance to the trail had to have been over a mile away. I can't believe he had to carry my sorry ass over a mile away, through some rough trails too, and all in enough time to save me.

It's a sobering thought really.

But there's another one that hangs heavy over my head.

Now I owe him. My life.

* * *

The problem with having too much time on your hands and nothing to do with it, is that it allows your mind to wander. And in my case, that meant over thinking and over analyzing almost every thing that's happened recently.

Haymitch was true to his word with regards to forcing me to take time off work once I was discharged from the hospital. I tried to reason with him that it wasn't a big deal, but he kept on insisting it was for my own good. It was no use once he spoke with my mother though, who of course turned out to be good friends with the doctor that treated me while I was in the hospital. They ordered me to two weeks of bed rest and even though I made my disapproval for being fussed over very clear, I was actually a bit relieved. Headaches still plagued me most days and my body still felt lousy overall, so I was more than happy to use the excuse to sleep the days away.

I spend most of my uneventful days holed up in my room, confined to my bed for the first few days by order of my mother who decided to use her nurse veto power over my persistence that I was well enough to leave the house. Prim was kind enough to lend me her stash of gossip magazines, but it was only a matter of time before I grew tired of reading about who was dating who and which celebrity wore what outfit better and what they looked like without makeup. By day four, my mother eventually let me move down to the living room couch during the day where I was able to catch up on daytime television.

Luckily, I had a string of visitors most afternoons and evenings to keep me from going bat shit crazy. People joke about cabin fever, but only six days in and I was already getting restless. When Madge visited, she updated me on how her and Gale had hung out a few times since the night he kissed her after the bar and that he's actually taking her on an date next week. A quick text message to Gale confirmed it and I made it pretty clear that if anything should go awry between them, there was no doubt whose side I'd be taking, Madge, plain and simple.

The news took me by surprise actually, and if it was anyone else besides Madge, the whole ordeal might have made me a little uncomfortable. That's not to say I'm not a little worried about Gale's history with commitment issues, or more like his problem with labeling relationships, but the giddiness Madge displayed when she gushed over him makes me somewhat hopeful.

Johanna on the other hand, had been acting a little…different, since coming back from the hospital. When I innocently asked how things were going, she seemed defensive and on edge, like I was giving her the third degree by making small talk. For a fleeting moment, the possibility of a guy being the root cause of her uneasiness crossed my mind. I decided to brush it off though as one of her random mood swings, but made a mental note to bring it up again later, when she seemed less high strung.

Most afternoons, Peeta drops by the house when his shift is over at the bakery to keep me company, always with a treat in tow and his sketchbook under his arm. I swear I've gained ten pounds over the past week from the sugary confections and my lack of physical activity from "taking it easy". I've caught him nose deep in his sketchbook a few times as he sits opposite me on the couch while I pretend to watch Shark Week reruns. It's hard paying attention to the screen when one of nature's anatomical masterpieces is sitting right across from you, brow furrowed in intense concentration and tongue peeking out from the corner of his mouth.

I find my eyes drawn to his hands as he works, gliding quickly across the paper with alternating short and long fluid strokes. Sometimes I wonder how he came to be so talented, was it a learned skill from hours of practice? Or was he just born perfect? When I ask him what he's drawing, he just closes his sketchbook with a smirk and his answer is always work related; a bakery order for so and so's wedding or baby shower or a milestone birthday cake.

The thought of Peeta designing a cake for a baby shower or a little kid's birthday party tugs at something deep in my chest. It makes me smile. I've observed him interacting with children on many occasions while out in public and at the bakery; he's such a natural with kids, just like his dad. I can only imagine the joy it brings him to be able to create an edible masterpiece that will bring a smile to some little kid's face as they devour it greedily.

In the evenings, he insists on seeing me to bed, helping me up the stairs and back into my bedroom for the night. Something about my balance and depth perception being off and not wanting me to trip on the steps. But I think it's just an excuse for him to feel useful. He hasn't said anything about it yet, but I have a suspicion that he feels guilty about what happened to me. As if he somehow failed in protecting me from what happened out at the quarry, which is ridiculous of course because how could he, or anyone for that matter, have prevented it? I'm hesitant to confront him about it, but that's not a first.

I can only imagine what my parents make of all of this, about us and him insisting on doing his part to take care of me. But so far they've been pretty cool about it, even Prim acts like he belongs here. Not that I'm complaining, it's nice knowing that my family approves of him and his caring and doting nature is doing nothing but win him extra brownie points with my mother.

Once I'm tucked in bed, he usually leaves me with a quick kiss goodnight before turning off the light and heading back home to his apartment. I wish he'd take me with him, or stay over at least. But I don't ask him to, I know why he doesn't. Although I'm sure my parents don't care, I know he doesn't feel right about sleeping in the same bed as me while under their roof. Sometimes I wish he wasn't so keen on sticking with his old fashioned I-need-to-respect-your-parents mentality.

It's the one thing that starts to eat at me as the days pass, his reserved nature when he's here. He doesn't touch me. Not the way I want him to that is. A kiss to my check or forehead, holding my hand while sitting on the couch, patting my back comfortingly when I complain that my muscles are stiff.

But that's it. That's all I get.

I've tried on numerous occasions to convey the urgent need that consistently throbs between my thighs. To get my point across, I've tried turning my face to capture his lips when he leans in for a kiss or moving his hand up my thigh when he pats it tenderly, but my efforts never quite pan out. God forbid I tell him what I want though. I'm too chicken shit for that.

On the Friday night of my last week of bed rest, before I have to head back to work on Monday, Peeta comes over to keep me company for the evening. For the first time since returning home, we have the house to ourselves. He decides we should have a movie night and I'm not sure how he manages it, but he somehow convinces me sit through a scary movie. With me curled up into his side and a blanket covering both of our bodies, I decide I can't take it anymore; I have to make a move.

I'm too focused on keeping from jumping him and pinning him to the back of the couch to notice what's going on in the movie. Emboldened by my lustful desire, I place a steady hand on his thigh and lightly run my thumb across the hem of his shorts, grazing the sensitive skin of his inner thigh with each pass. His muscles twitch beneath my fingertips and he nudges his leg closer to me. I take it as a sign that under that golden-boy facade of his, he's just as eager as I am to tear off each other's clothes. There's only one way to find out I guess.

The grip he has on my shoulder tightens as I teasingly drag my hand up his inner thigh, but when I'm mere inches from the juncture of his shorts, his other hand is on top of mine, halting my movement.

"Katniss," he hisses, "what are you doing?"

I turn to face him with a wicked grin. "Isn't it obvious?"

"What about your par—"

"Does it look like anyone else is here?" I cringe when I realize my tone must have come across much harsher than I intended.

He frowns and repositions our hands back to my lap, on top of the blanket of course. "No, but who knows when they'll be back, or Prim."

I retract my hand from his and cross my arms over my chest in frustration. "Prim's sleeping over at Rue's," I pout. Peeta chuckles lightly and it sours my mood even more. "So when did you take a vow of celibacy?"

"Katniss." He picks up the remote and pauses the movie; it's a lost cause by now anyway. When he turns to face me, I quickly look away and slump further into the couch. "I just don't feel comfortable…you know, fooling around when we're here. I can't help but feel like I'm somehow violating their trust by taking advantage of their absence. Besides, it's just two more days of house arrest and then things can get back to normal."

"But it's been two weeks!" I whine. He tries to wrap his arm around me again but I recoil away and scoot over to the end of the couch. "And a girl has needs," I mutter under my breath. I'm well aware that I'm being a little over dramatic but I don't really give a shit, not when I have the raging hormones of a teenager coursing through my veins.

Peeta sighs loudly and I chance a glance at him from the corner of my eye. His inner turmoil is written all over his face as he debates his options. He runs a hand though his shaggy hair and huffs, as though he's made his decision. "It's getting late, I should get going."

I stare at him in disbelieve for moment before turning to confirm the time on the digital receiver. 9:34 pm. Um, not exactly late in my books. Is he upset with me? Did I push my luck this time? Fuck that, don't I deserve to be comforted the way I want?

"Are you serious?" I balk, my scowl deepening with each passing second.

He runs his hands down his thighs and stands. "I'll see you up to bed," he says as he picks up the remote again and powers everything down.

I can't believe he's acting like this. It's beyond infuriating and I'd rather him not see me anywhere, especially not to my bedroom right now. "I don't need your help," I hiss, shoving the blanket off my lap and hurrying over to the stair case. I don't even get to the second step when I sense him behind me; just being there makes my blood boil beneath my skin. Just his presence is enough to distract me and I misjudge the height of the next step. Before I face plant into the next step though, he pulls me back and scoops me up into his arms as if I weigh as much as a bag of air.

"You sure about that?" he asks, his grip on my thigh and my side tightening. I consider struggling out of his hold, but once I breathe him in, the clean scent of his white shirt and the odd combination of cinnamon and dill that lingers on his skin, I go limp in his arms. This is the closest he's allowed me to come to him in weeks so I take full advantage of the opportunity.

I nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck and begin to plant heated, open-mouthed kisses up his neck. As he cautiously navigates the steps, I throw my arms around his neck to pull him closer, running my lips up down his chiseled jaw line. He inhales sharply when I begin to nip the skin just below his ear, which causes him to almost loose his balance as he pushes the door to my bedroom open with his leg.

He doesn't bother to turn on the light as he walks us over to my bed and sets me down gently. I'm worried he'll pull away all too soon and leave me like this, hot and bothered with only my fingers to relieve my aching center, but he doesn't. Instead, he hovers over me, straddling my legs with his knees, worshiping the exposed skin above my breasts while his hands trace teasing circles along my arms.

Goosebumps pepper my skin from the combination of his lips and his warm breath. I'm screaming at him in my head to move further down, to lift up my shirt and take each of my puckered nipples into his mouth. When he doesn't show any signs of moving, I try to shift myself further up the bed. Once he catches on to what I'm trying to do, he stops and looks down at me.

"Don't you want me?" I ask in a defeated tone.

He takes my hand in his and slowly drags it over his thigh to the thick bulge straining against his shorts. I grasp him firmly and run my palm along the length of his cock. "What do you think?" he groans.

"Then what's wrong? Why'd you stop?" When he pulls away and leans back on his knees, I cover my face with my hands and let out a frustrated sigh.

"You know why I—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know why. Fine. Have it your way then." I drop my face to the side and stare at the door. He's going to owe me big time when all of this is through.

Peeta rolls himself off of me, my old childhood bed squeaking loudly as he lands on his feet. I've never really realized how loud it is. I guess that's because I've never had someone, a guy specifically, in my bed before. My imagination runs wild with the thought of how loud we could be if he just stayed. Fuck. It's not helping any.

He leans in one last time to place a chaste kiss to my check, but I take him off guard and latch onto the back of his head and guide his lips towards mine instead. He humors me for a few seconds, but once I swipe the tip of my tongue along the seam of his lips, he pulls away with a grin.

"Good night," he laughs, shaking his head. He turns to exit the room, but I catch his hand.

"Stay with me," I plead, squeezing his hand gently. "Just until I fall asleep." He pauses for a moment and gazes down at me, his deep blue eyes dark and glassy in the moonlight. I tug on his hand, guiding him to kneel next to the bed. "I have a hard time falling asleep after watching scary movies." It's not a complete lie, I used lay awake for hours after watching horror films, but I haven't had trouble falling asleep after in years.

He raises his eyebrows doubtingly as he rests his elbows on the edge of the mattress, his weight causing me to roll a little towards him. "Uh huh," he whispers before brushing my knuckles against his lips. It's a simple yet intimate gesture that causes my heart to flutter in my chest and every muscle in my body to twitch in anticipation.

There's no way I'll be able to fall asleep with him sitting next to me, watching me with hooded eyes and a piercing stare that sends shivers straight to my throbbing core. One of his hands finds its way to my hair and he frees the end of my braid from my hair tie. My eyes flutter closed as he runs his fingers through my hair, the slight tugging at my scalp surprisingly soothing as I feel my muscles begin to uncoil and my breathing returns to normal.

I must lose track of time. I have no idea how long he's been brushing out my hair when I feel myself starting to slip under the heaviness of sleep. I release a breathy sigh when I no longer feel his fingers in my hair and mutter his name. I hear him whisper something back, three short syllables I think, but I don't quite catch it.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

So so sorry for the long wait, I hope there are still people out there reading! There are actually only a few chapter left after this, hard to believe actually, and most are already written. So not such a long wait for the next chapter, I promise!

Thank you to everyone who has kept with me so far and to those who have followed, favorited, and reviewed! Don't be shy and please leave a review, I love hearing from you and your thoughts!

Come and visit me on tumblr (pookieh)!


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer:** This fanfic is rated 'M' for language and sexual content. I do not own any of the characters of The Hunger Games.

* * *

**Chapter 22: Trouble In Paradise**

The next morning, I awake with a renewed sense of clarity and feel surprisingly like my normal self again. After dragging my ass out of the pile of blankets I'd managed to cocoon myself in, I lazily make my way down to the kitchen were I find a note on the counter. My mother was called in to the hospital again and my father's back at the quarry…again. I'm not sure what for this time, but he's been avoiding my prodding questions lately, always managing to sidestep an answer and successfully change the subject.

Prim is still at Rue's. Supposedly that is. I'm almost certain that she was on the phone yesterday with Rory before she left, and the phrases "see you in the morning" and "don't tell anyone" may have been overheard. I've considered confronting her about these secret rendezvous she's been adamantly denying, but she's been avoiding me like the plague ever since my little incident at work.

I piddle away most of the morning by helping out with some of the mundane chores around the house. After folding the last basket of laundry, I settle down into my usual spot on the couch with a bowl of extra-buttery popcorn and a can of ginger ale. I'm looking forward to a low-key afternoon spent curled up on the couch with _Gone with the Wind_ to keep me company when my phone rings. On the third ring, I begrudgingly swipe it off the table; thank god for caller ID. It's Johanna. I have two options: I could choose to ignore her and let it go to voicemail (but I'll probably end up regretting it later if I do) or I could choose to humor her and listen to whatever harebrained idea she has now and regretfully decline. The latter seems less detrimental to my plans, so I pause the opening scene of the movie as I mumble a curt greeting into the phone.

"Hello to you too, Sunshine."

"What do you need, Jo?" My monotone voice conveys my sheer annoyance with her interruption of my Saturday afternoon.

"Why do you always assume I want something? Wait, don't answer that. I know you're probably too busy getting all teary-eyed over some lame black and white movie, but I just thought I'd give you a heads up. You are my friend and all and I try to look out for you when I can, especially given your invalid state."

"Uh, huh. Just spit it out already."

"Well if you can tear yourself away from that hole you've created in the couch for a few hours, I'd suggest you meet me at the park—the one near my house, with the basketball courts, because I have a feeling you might want to stake your claim out here. I'm not sure how much longer I can fend off the cougars from that tasty piece of meat you call your boyfriend. Who'd have thought a pickup game of shirts and skins would bring all the sluts out from hiding?"

I'm up on my feet the instant I hear the word "skins," knowing full well that's reason enough to draw a crowd. Peeta had mentioned that Finnick and Thresh had asked him to play a game or two with them today, teased him into it more like it with some nonsense about being whipped already. He asked if I wanted to watch, but I gave in to my hermit tendencies and politely declined. I'm sure my mother wouldn't have cared if I'd left the house since I've pretty much made a full recovery, but basketball just isn't my thing.

But now I'm kicking myself for passing up on the opportunity. There is something suspicious though. Johanna doesn't tolerate sports—unless it's one of those random lumberjack/woodsmen type competitions they air on ESPN2. Something about bulging muscles and swinging an axe and plaid shirts that just does it for her. Go figure.

"OK, I get it. I'll be there in ten." In my rush to ascend the stairs whilst tugging off my faded black sweat pants, I almost fall flat on the floor when I trip on the top step. "Shit!" I cry out as my phone goes skidding off to the side. By the time I pick myself back up and locate my phone, I notice that the battery flew out, causing me to inadvertently hang up on Johanna. Oh well.

I take a quick sniff of the ribbed white tank top I'm wearing. It's still clean enough so I decide to forgo changing my top, but given the heat wave that I've been happily avoiding due to my "bed rest," I rummage through the back of my dresser in search of a particular jean miniskirt. I'm no fool when it comes to the court bunnies that used to hang around the high school gym after class to ogle the generous display of bare male flesh as the guys' basketball team practiced. It seemed the shorts and skirts got higher every year in desperate attempt to be noticed by the jocks. I'll have to up my game if I want to be noticed amongst those girls and "stake my claim," as Johanna so bluntly put it.

As I pull the waistband up over my ankles, I say a silent prayer that it still fits. Prim insisted I buy a skirt before I left for university, something about letting go of my inhibitions and learning to love my body once I'd finally grown into my slight but apparent curves, blah, blah, blah. Little did she know I'd shoved it, still with the tags on, to the back of my dresser with no intention of packing it to take with me.

I let out a sigh of relief as I slide the skirt snugly around my hips, buttoning the clasps easily. A quick glance in the mirror reveals the tags, which are still hanging off the waistband. I make quick work of them and tug them off. There, that should work. Simple, yet should have the desired effect, given that I never wear skirts. Or dresses. Not even in the summer. This should definitely be enough to draw Peeta's attention away from the barrage of bare skin that's sure to be out on display today. I throw my hair up into a messy bun and grab my sunglasses off the top of the dresser.

Just to be safe, I scribble down a note to Prim and leave it on the kitchen counter and grab my wallet as I all but sprint to my car. My mind starts to wander as I wait impatiently at the only stop light between my house and the park, which of course changes to red just as I approach the intersection. From what I can remember, the park by Johanna's house was always a popular hangout spot for high school kids and those who played basketball, but since the new park opened up by the movie theater, it's mainly become a spot for just the latter.

I can only imagine the crowd that's assembled if Finnick, Thresh, and Peeta are playing skins, which I'm assuming they are given Johanna's courtesy call. I can't help but laugh at myself for the surprising twinge of jealousy that courses through me at the though of other women, young and old, checking out Peeta. Maybe I should feel flattered, but dating a guy who half the town wants to bang doesn't exactly give me a warm fuzzy feeling. It actually makes me anxious and maybe even a little defensive. As expected, I accidentally allow my mind to wander.

What will happen when some other girl—who's way more attractive and nicer and well off and just everything that I'm not—comes around? What then? How would I even stand a chance? I look down to my outfit and frown at my meager attempt to look "sexy." Who am I kidding? I look ridiculous.

A horn honks behind me, snapping me out of my daze and I curse under my breath when I notice the light has already turned green. By the time I pull up into the parking lot of the park, I spy a spot close to the basketball courts. I can already make out six figures rushing back and forth between the nets and quite a few people gathered to watch, some on the bleachers and some scattered about the grassy hill overlooking the park.

I shift my car into park and shut off the rattling engine. The damn thing's been making noises that even I know aren't normal, and I'm no mechanic. I should really take it in already to get it looked at now that I actually have extra money saved up sitting in my bank account.

With the constant stream of cool air no longer blowing on my face, the sweat immediately starts to collect along my brow. Damn it's hot. In hopes of enjoying the cool confines of my car for just a few more moments, I sit back and watch as a shirtless Thresh passes the ball to a shirtless Peeta who in turn successfully maneuvers around a familiar mop of red hair and fake passes to a shirtless Finnick, allowing him a clear shot to the net.

I'm mesmerized by the muscles of Peeta's chest and arms, especially his biceps as he curls them in to take the shot. I don't even watch to see if he makes it; instead, my eyes are drawn to his clenched jaw and then to the tip of his tongue that is barely visible, peeking out from the corner of his mouth. That unconscious habit of his is going to be the death of me. I can already feel my body starting to respond, my lower muscles contracting and the heat pooling between my thighs causes me to shift uncomfortably in my seat. Maybe wearing a skirt wasn't such a bad idea after all; I'll need to air myself out after a sight like that.

I feel like I'm in high school again, ogling the guys from a distance. Only difference now though is that one of those guys is mine. A beep from my phones startles me and I frown as I swipe it off the center console and hold it up in front of my face so I can still keep an eye on Peeta.

_Joho: You just gonna stare at him from your car like a creeper or are you gonna join us? We're on the bleachers._

I drag my eyes away from Peeta for a minute to the bleachers where I find Johanna staring straight at me with a teasing smirk, shaking her head disapprovingly. Madge is with her and I'm a little surprised that I don't see Annie with them. Who I'm not surprised to see, though, is Delly, Clove, and Glimmer up on the hill just a little further up behind Johanna and Madge, practically naked in their barely-there bikinis as they sun themselves for all to see. Looks like some people pulled out all the stops. Could she be more blatantly obvious—or desperate for that matter?

I decide to leave my purse in the car and slowly make my way over to the join my friends. As I approach them, I glance back over at the court and realize that the other team consists of Darius (the familiar mop of red hair that I noticed), Gale, and Gloss.

I'm not sure what I'm more stunned by: the fact that Gale is actually out here participating in a team sport or that Johanna's staring down Darius like _he's_ a piece of meat. My eyes flutter back and forth between the two and I can't help but pick up on some sort of intensity behind her stare.

"Ahem," I say as I saddle up next to Johanna, earning her attention for all of two seconds. "If I'm not mistaken, looks like someone's got a crush."

"Pssh, what would you know," she shrugs nonchalantly, but I know better. Something's up and she's not in the mood for sharing.

"Hey, Katniss!" Madge smiles brightly. "Glad you could join our little cheering squad. Although looks like you'll be cheering for the opposing team." I side-eye Johanna as she suddenly jumps to her feet and cheers loudly when Darius sinks a shot. Madge leans back and whispers behind Johanna, "If it isn't obvious enough, they're together."

"Uh, thanks, I think I just figured that out," I say with a somewhat annoyed smirk. When was she planning on telling me? Johanna doesn't seem phased by any of my attempts to coax the story out of her, so I give up after my third try. "So, who's winning?"

"As much as it pains me to say, skins," Madge answers. "And they also seem to be the crowd favorite."

"Hmm, wonder why," I laugh. As I sit back against the bleachers to rest my elbows on the row behind me, I finally catch Peeta as he does a double take and notices me. A huge grin breaks out across his glistening face and I'm not sure what I'm thinking when I lift my fingers to my mouth and blow him a kiss. I can tell he's laughing when he quickly clenches a hand over his heart and lets out an exaggerated sigh. What a goof.

I don't think I've ever paid this much attention to a game of basketball before in my life, but there's something different about it when it's someone you know, particularly your boyfriend, who's easily dominating the game. Maybe it's just me, but I sense that he's showing off just a little bit, especially when he sinks his third three-point shot. I know it's just supposed to be all fun and games, but I also can't help but feel some sort of tension between a few of the guys on the court, specifically Peeta, Gale, and Gloss. A brief glare here or a slight shove there, but I'd be giving myself way too much credit to believe it was all because of me. That's just how guys are when it comes to competitive sports, right?

A high-pitched squeal from behind causes me to glance over my shoulder in annoyance. If there's one thing in this world that bugs me the most, it's overly desperate attempts from attention-whores like Delly. As if baring her practically naked body for everyone to see wasn't enough, she has to make a spectacle of herself to be the center of attention.

"Why's she even here?" I mumble to Johanna, who looks equally annoyed.

"Why do you think?" She gestures over to Gloss who's just dribbled around Thresh for a fancy layup. "He's the town's most recent eligible bachelor; did you really think she'd pass on an opportunity like that?"

"Are you kidding me?"

"Nope, the girl's got a thing for your leftovers apparently." Johanna slaps at my bare leg twice and I try my best to lean away to avoid a third.

As hard as I try to tune Delly out, my ears keep picking up on random tidbits of her conversation with Glimmer and Clove. My ears perk up though when I hear the mention of my name.

"_She's quite the influence, and a bad one at that. My mother heard from Peeta's mom herself that she's the reason he's not going back to school in the fall."_

I narrow my eyes. What the hell?

"What is she talking about?" Madge asks as she looks over to me in confusion.

"I-I don't know. He hasn't said anything to me about it."

"That's because she's full of shit and probably just talking out of her ass." Johanna chimes in as she turns to throw Delly an odious stare, although I'm certain it goes unnoticed. "Everyone knows that her mom's got the biggest mouth in town. Half the rumors she spreads she and her friends start themselves anyway and it looks like she's wasted no time in passing along her talents to her daughter."

"Jo's right," Madge says sympathetically. "I wouldn't listen to anything she says, you're Peeta's girlfriend and if anyone knows more about what's going on in his life, it's you."

I nod my head in agreement, but a part of me feels unsettled, as though I'm not one hundred percent certain of Madge's reassuring words. There are still a few topics that Peeta has yet to confide in me with, specifically anything dealing with his mother or how she ruined his childhood. The last thing I want to do though is push him; he'll come around when he's ready. At least I hope he will.

We turn our attention back to the game and Johanna finally gives in and spills the beans about how she and Darius became "a thing" as she calls it. He apparently approached her after his shift at the bar a few weeks ago when I saw him that one night at Louie's. She turned him down when he offered to buy her a drink, but he was apparently very persistent and showed up on her doorstep after the country bar a few weeks later and well, I stopped listening to the details that followed after that. That's probably why she was so weird when she came to visit me after my incident. A part of me feels a little miffed that she didn't tell me then, but I guess I can't really give her slack for it; I'm not much of an open book myself and she's usually the one who has to force anything out of me.

When Peeta finally ends the game with a winning shot, I can't wipe the huge grin on my face. I blatantly stare when he bends over to collect his shirt and keys off the grass and I'm selfishly grateful that he doesn't put it on right away, tucking it into the waistband of his shorts instead.

Johanna surprises me when she hops off the bleachers and jogs over to Darius, jumping up onto him and wrapping her legs around his waist. I roll my eyes when they start sucking face and Madge giggles. "Lucky for you you've been spared from all of this. I've caught them in more than one uncompromising position way too many times already."

I can believe it; Johanna has never been one to shy away from public displays of affection, and especially not when the object of her affection is all hot and sweaty in front of her.

"Well, I'll see you around, Katniss." Madge gives me a quick wave before heading out into the parking lot where I see her approach Gale and he embraces her affectionately, placing a quick kiss on her head. I have to admit, it does still feel a little weird watching them together, and I can't help but feel that he's purposefully avoiding me, but they both seem happy. If he truly has moved on, I can't fault him for falling for Madge. Her sweet and nurturing nature is just what he needs to calm that firecracker temperament of his.

"If you take a picture, it'll last longer." I look up to find Peeta grinning at me, standing just an arm's length away. God, I've been caught staring. Can you blame me though? My raging hormones haven't let up yet since yesterday and seeing my boyfriend standing half naked in front of me isn't helping the situation. My eyes rake over his bare skin, taking in every curve and dip of the muscles in his chest and stomach. Fuck I want him. Something about still being all sweaty and trying to catch his breath does quite the number on my ready and eager body.

Peeta brings his hands to his hips and laughs. He must see the lust in my eyes and damn it, he knows exactly what he's doing to me. I stand up, no longer able to contain myself, but before I can wrap my arms around him he grabs hold of my wrist with one hand and his bag with the other and we're on the move. I'm half confused and half intrigued on where he's taking me, but I stay silent, his tight grip sending shocks of electricity straight to my core. He leads me to the parking lot, which has already emptied out a bit, and we don't stop until we get to my car.

"Peeta what are you—oh!" Before I can take a breath he drops his bag to the ground and hoists me up onto the hood of my car. Thank God I parked in the shade or else the backs of my thighs would be burned off my now, but when I feel his fingertips sneak underneath the hem of my tank top, I could care less if I got burned. I'd gladly take the pain if it means having Peeta's hands all over me right now. But I'm not expecting him to spread my thighs apart and plant himself between them and burying his face into my neck. A strangled grunt escapes me when his lips find the sensitive area on my neck just below my earlobe.

"We're in public you know!" My eyes widen as I peer over to spy Delly, huffing under her breath before smacking her gum as she struts through the parking lot, stopping to gawk at us. She lowers her sunglasses to peer over the top, and I laugh quietly to myself when I see her face is full of disgust. Glimmer and Clove aren't far behind as usual, their faces both equally unimpressed. "Just get a room already," she hisses as she passes by.

"Get a shirt already," I mumble back. Peeta's mouth vibrates when he chuckles against my skin as he continues to lavish my neck with achingly slow kisses, the tip of his tongue darting out to probe the juncture between my neck and shoulder. It tickles and I lean my head into his with a smirk. I barely make out Delly's next huff as she stomps off to her car, her pack following close behind.

Peeta pulls away and places a chaste kiss to the tip of my nose. "You know, she kinda has a point." I pull back and furrow my brow. "We should get a room, preferably mine."

He drops to one knee and leans over to retie his shoelaces. I fall back onto the hood of my car and land on my elbows. "Well, hurry up then. Who knows how long before my parents get home and realize that I've snuck out."

"You rebel," he laughs. I startle when I feel his lips on the inside of my knee and I shoot up in surprise. "Peeta! What are you doing?" He just grins up at me and I follow his gaze down to between my legs. He has a clear view of my panties and he'd have to blind not to notice that they're completely soaked through. He lets out a low moan as he drags his lips up my inner thigh. My eyes widen as I clench my legs closed and grasp his hair with my hands, halting him from going any further. "Peeta!"

He lifts his head with a laugh. "What? Did you really think I'd do that in the middle of the parking lot with everyone around?"

I can feel the heat creep up my cheeks at the thought of myself sprawled out on the hood of my car, legs spread open wide with Peeta's head buried between my thighs as he licks me senseless. Damn. When did I start fantasizing about acts of public indecency? I resist the urge to answer 'yes, I was hoping that you would.'

Peeta stands and picks up his bag. He reaches in and produces a plain white shirt that he quickly throws over his head. "Meet me at my place in an hour."

My jaw goes slack as I stare at him in disbelief. "An _hour_?" I whine as I slide off my car. "What the hell, Peeta? How long does it take for you to shower?" I reach out for him but he dodges my attempt, giggling like a schoolboy. "Why can't I just join you?" I add with a wicked grin.

"Can't a guy try to surprise his girlfriend?" he calls over his shoulder as he saunters off.

I frown. I hate surprises.

* * *

When I reach the top of the stairs, I lift my hand to the door and knock twice, for good measure. When Peeta doesn't answer, I try again and kick at the edge of the doormat as I impatiently wait. Still nothing. I reach for the doorknob, but hover over it a few seconds, unsure if we're at the point in our relationship where I can just let myself in. He's expecting me, but just not so soon. I drove around the block a few times, but there was no way I was going to wait the entire hour before heading over here. When I twist the handle, it gives way and I lean in through doorway to peek inside.

Peeta is leaning up against the kitchen counter with his back to me, still shirtless from the game with his phone pressed up to his ear. Not wanting to disturb his conversation, I quietly shut the door behind me and step out of my flip flops. I shrug off my purse and throw it on the couch, hoping the sound will be loud enough to tip off my presence, but he still doesn't notice. I decide to take a seat on the couch and turn my attention to the muted TV screen where a rerun of Iron Chef is on.

Peeta laughs and I turn to look at him. He lifts a thumb to his mouth and begins to gnaw on his nail. I'm a little confused when I catch his jaw clench and unclench; if I didn't know any better, I'd say he's not too trilled with whoever he's on the phone with; his words sound forced and his tone overly polite. I know I shouldn't be eavesdropping, but it's a bit hard when the rest of the room is so quiet.

I try to tune him out and focus on the show to try and figure out what the secret ingredient is. Oh goody, octopus. My stomach turns a little when I notice one of the chefs turning on the ice cream maker…seriously? How could that possibly taste good?

Peeta exhales a loud sigh and I crane my neck to look over at him. He's finally off the phone, so I plaster a huge grin across my face and wait, my pulse racing for my spontaneity in showing up so early. When he finally turns around, he drops his phone to the counter.

"Jesus, Katniss! You scared the crap out of me!"

"Sorry! I just wanted to surprise _you_…so I kinda let myself in and the door was unlocked."

"When did you get here?"

"Bout five minutes ago," I say as the guilt of overhearing his phone call starts to creep in. "I hope you're not mad, I didn't think you'd mind."

"Of course I'm not mad." He comes over to join me in the living room and plops down on the coffee table in front of me. "I just thought I'd be showered and changed by the time you got here, and well, maybe a few other things."

"Well, you know, you can't keep a girl waiting like that. Especially not after the past few weeks that I've just had."

Peeta chuckles and I watch as his eyes dart down to my bare legs. Now knowing the effect I can have on him just by wearing a skirt, I open my legs a bit wider, causing it to ride up my thighs a bit more, hoping that he'll take my not-so-subtle hint. He looks up at me and I plead silently with my eyes. Not wanting the gap between us to exist anymore, I push myself off the back of the couch and wrap my arms around his neck. I rest the side of my face against his chest, my head tucked underneath his chin where I can hear his heart beating away steadily.

"Please, don't make me wait any longer."

His abdominal muscles flex underneath my touch as I run a hand down his side, my knuckles brushing lightly against his skin. He inhales sharply as I rub my palm over his already apparent bulge. He exhales a low moan as I work my fingertips into the waistband of his shorts and he lifts his hips up off the coffee table as I tug them off his legs. No longer confined, his erection springs forward and I eagerly run my hand up and down his length, feeling it swell within my grasp. God, how I missed this.

"Hey!" I gasp when he leans forward, causing me to lose my hold on his cock and effectively lowering me onto my back.

"I can wait," he groans as I feel his tip graze against my inner thigh. "You on the other hand…" Peeta drops his hands to the hem of my tank top and shoves it up, exposing my stomach and the bottom of my bra. His slightly chapped lips make my skin tingle as he places urgent kisses just above the waistband of my skirt and his hands find the bottom of it, his fingers inching their way up my thighs. "Now, let's see what we can do about this." He grins as he lowers his head between my legs, his hands holding my legs open. Our eyes meet and the intensity behind his gaze is almost enough to tip me over the edge. I've waited too long for this and my throbbing center pulsates in time with my erratic heartbeat. My hips buck forward in anticipation and he parts his lips to place an open-mouthed kiss against the thin cotton of my underwear, dragging his tongue up my folds.

"Peeta," I hiss as he does it again and again and again. If my panties weren't already soaked through, they definitely are now. Eager to feel the warmth of his tongue directly against my skin, I reach down to tug at my underwear and Peeta helps to pull them the rest of the way off. My legs fall open wide once again and he wastes no time in heading straight for my throbbing clit. Just as I'd fantasized earlier while lying on the hood of my car, he doesn't let up as he licks me senseless, his teeth grazing against my sensitive skin as he sucks my swollen nub into his mouth. I welcome the tightening sensation below my stomach. I know it won't take him long, not when I've been waiting for this relief for so long. The sensation keeps building and building with each pass of his expert tongue and I screw my eyes shut. "I'm almost…almost…Peeta!"

The instant he shoves two fingers into me and curls them forward, I shatter around him, moaning loudly and thrashing my head from side to side as I let my orgasm ripple through me. I'm almost too far gone, reveling in my blissful euphoria, to notice Peeta hovering over me, his lips crashing down against mine. I feel his warm breath against my earlobe as he runs the tip of his cock through my wet folds.

I can feel his smile against my lips. "Now it's my turn."

* * *

Monday morning arrives all too soon and I almost sleep through my alarm that was set to go off at six. By the fourth snooze, I finally crawl out of bed and curse myself now that I've only allotted myself ten minutes to get my shit together, grab a quick breakfast, and head out the door to get to work on time.

I'm pretty much a zombie as I slowly drag myself from the car and up the stairs to my dark office. I'm surprised at how quiet it is. There are only a few people are in, Maysilee being one of them, and we chat for a few minutes in the lunch room as I wait for the coffee machine to spew out a mediocre cup of brew.

She's overly chipper this morning, and sporting a new pixie-cut hairstyle. When I compliment her on how it accentuates her features, she blushes and said the heat was finally getting to her. She brushes her hand at her neck as if to cover up something but it's too late. A purplish-red mark peeks out from under her thumb and I'm not sure if I should be amused that a woman in her early forties is sporting a hickey or nauseated because I'm almost a hundred percent certain who put it there.

Speaking of Haymitch, where the hell is he? Maysilee mutters something about getting back to the phones once I realize that I've been staring and I collect my mug and retreat back to my lonely office.

Gloss must have left early this morning, but Beetee's absence gets me wondering if maybe he's out sick or something. I take my time going through the slew of emails that have been sitting in my inbox for the last two weeks when I hear familiar loud footsteps on the stairs. I peek down at the corner of my computer screen. 9:00 am. Someone must have had a rough weekend.

I quietly sneak over and peer around the doorway into Haymitch's office. He hasn't even bothered to turn on the lights and the state of his desk hasn't improved much either since I've been gone. He let's out a sleepy sigh as he stretches his arms up over his head. I clear my throat and he turns immediately. "Oh, it's you, come on in, Sweetheart. Catch the lights too if you don't mind."

The overhead lights flicker on when I flip the switch and slump down into the chair closest to me. I drum my fingers along the armrests, waiting for him to say something. When he doesn't, I clear my throat again. "So, what am I doing today?"

He smirks as he settles himself into his squeaky chair and weaves his fingers together to rest behind his greasy head of hair. He lifts his brow and with wide eyes, gestures towards a stack of papers sitting at the edge of his desk. The pile is easily a foot tall, a mess of loose papers and binders and reports.

I frown. "And what am I supposed to do with that exactly?"

"Data entry my dear, have fun."

I stare at him for a minute, unsure if he's serious. But when he makes no attempt to continue, my eyes drift back to the stack of papers. With a huff, I gather them up as best I can, but before I can sulk off back to my desk, Haymitch sits up to rest his elbows on his desk.

"Oh yeah, so about…what happened, first off, you feeling better? Do you need more time off?"

A little annoyed that people are still treating me like I'm unstable and going to break, all I can manage is a curt shake of my head.

"Good, good." He looks away for a brief moment as his eyes dart behind me to the door and then quickly back to my face. "I just wanted to let you know that this isn't quite over yet," he says in a much quieter voice. "Just because certain people are trying their hardest to sweep this under the rug, not everyone agrees."

I'm not sure where he's going with this exactly, or that I'm even supposed to be privy to what he's telling me, but the air around us suddenly starts to feel thick, and an uneasy feeling weighs at my shoulders.

"Now, I don't want you to mention any of this to your dad," Haytmich continues. "I don't want him knowing anything until I'm certain, but I've come across a few other reports that seemed a little…suspicious."

I narrow my eyes. "Suspicious? How?"

"Well, I've been talking to a few of the guys out in the facilities department and they said that in the past few weeks they've come across something similar to the wasp that Gloss described to me, the one that got you."

My skin pricks at the area on my neck where I was stung, the memory of exactly what happened still a little fuzzy. "Then why didn't anyone say anything? If those things are out and about where we're supposed to work, then why were we even out there?"

"Now calm down, don't go blaming them quite yet. They said they did their part and went through the usual lines of communication, put in a formal report in writing, which was urgently sent to the attention of upper management. But when I went looking for those reports, I couldn't track any of them down. It's like they disappeared into thin air. Now I know they're not lying; I've known those guys for years, so something else happened. One guy said he was actually stung too—"

"What?" My grip on the papers that are still in my hands tightens. "What the hell happened to him? I thought you said I was the first recordable incident or whatever since Snow took over?"

"Well luckily for the guy that was stung, he didn't react anywhere as severely as you did. But same thing as before, he followed protocol and went to upper management first to report the incident. And can you guess what I found when I went looking for that report?"

"Nothing."

Haymitch shakes his head, the corners of his mouth turned down slightly into a frown. "Nothing. Not a single paper trail. There was absolutely nothing in the incident files. Something like that should have at least shown up on my weekly health and safety reports."

I hold up my hand to stop him and let out a shaky breath. "So let me get this straight. What you're saying is that because Gloss didn't follow protocol, that because he did the right thing and called an ambulance instead of bringing me back to the office to 'run it through upper management' first, and because I ended up in the hospital, that I'm the lucky one who made the quarry look bad. Am I right?"

Haymitch sighs before pursing his lips, as though considering his next words carefully. "In a way, but more importantly, you drew unwanted attention towards Snow. Like I said, now it's his job to try and explain this away, but between you and me, it's not going so well."

As I consider everything that Haymitch has just told me, I can't help but wonder if all the extra time my father has been spending at the quarry in the evening and over the weekends has anything to do with this. God, what have I gotten myself into? What have I gotten my father into? The big question that still hangs heavy in my mind finally comes out.

"So what do we do?" It's more of a whisper as I stare at him with worried eyes.

"You just keep doing whatever it is you normally do. Let me and your father handle this; it's not something you need to get tangled up in or to worry about."

Huh. Well that's easier said than done.

If he didn't want me to fucking worry about any of this, then why the hell did he tell me any of it the first place? I wish everyone would just forget about what happened, and I'm a little ashamed to say that a part of me hopes that Snow actually succeeds in sweeping this all under the rug. I didn't mean for any of this to happen, to spark all this controversy.

Taking my silence as acceptance, Haymitch smacks his hands on his desk, which startles me from my thoughts. "Good talk," he says with a louder and much more lighthearted tone.

Taking the hint, I gather myself to take my leave. "Oh," I say, poking my head back into the doorway, "where's Beetee?"

"Who?" He doesn't even look up at me as he studies his coffee cup. Seriously? We've been here for over a month now and he still has no clue who Beetee is?

"The other summer student, you know, the guy that works for Chaff?"

"Right, right, he's out with Gloss."

"Oh." I don't even try to mask my disappointment. Of all days, today would have been a great day to be outside in the woods where I could clear my mind of this horseshit mess that I've unintentionally gotten myself into.

"Don't worry, Sweetheart, you'll be back out there before you know it. Just enjoy the AC for the next little while and let those boys sweat their balls off out there." He gestures to the window and I can already tell from the moisture that's collected along the pane that it's going to be another scorcher.

He has a point. Maybe office work won't be so bad after all.

* * *

The days in the office drag on painfully slow, along with the rest of my life. With it officially being summer now, things at the bakery have picked up full swing for the wedding season. This, of course, translates to Peeta working ungodly hours again to meet all the custom cake orders at the bakery. It's not only in our little town that the Mellarks have a reputation; Mr. Mellark's talent with a piping bag, now along with Peeta's, is well known throughout the surrounding areas. I've been told that brides flock from miles around in hopes of having a Mellarks' creation on display at their wedding reception.

So I'm a little surprised—and pleasantly so—when my phone rings one evening after I've just realized that my unshaved legs have now crossed the line to furry. I glance at my caller ID as I kick off my socks and see that it's Peeta. I practically squeal as I desperately reach for the phone. He said it was supposed to be another busy week, but who knows; maybe some bride called off her wedding and no longer needs a cake.

"_Hey you, come over tomorrow night. It looks like we'll actually have the night off and I want to make you dinner. My dad said he could join us too, you know, finally go through with that dinner you agreed to?"_

The sound of his voice over the line brings a smile to my face as I struggle to hold my phone up to my ear and wriggle out of my jeans.

His request is very tempting seeing that my mother is on the afternoon shift this week and my father said he'd be working late again too. They've left Prim and me to fend for ourselves for dinner these past few nights, and I can only take spaghetti so many times. I'm not a terrible chef; I could maybe pass as a short order cook, but by no means would anyone want to pay for anything I put on a plate.

"What's on the menu?" I try to pretend that I'm considering his offer, even though my mind is already made up. Sorry Prim, you're on your own tomorrow.

"_Well I didn't really think that far ahead yet…what about…roast lamb?"_

Wow, that sounds ambitious…and tasty…and expensive. I can already feel my taste buds screaming in delight at the thought of it. "That sounds delicious, but don't feel like you need to go all out or anything for my sake. What about something a little more casual? Do you know how to make lamb stew? I love the kind they serve at _Oasis_."

Please say yes, please say yes. Lamb stew has been my absolute favorite ever since my parents took Prim and I out to dinner at the best restaurant in town after my eighth grade graduation. It's one of those little places that opened up in an old house and the chef likes to tailor the menu with the seasons, only using ingredients that he can source locally. A lot of people thought it wouldn't survive, but ten years later it's still here and going strong.

"_Ah, good taste I see. Well I accept the challenge. So how does six sound?"_

"Done and done."

There's a knock at my door that sends me tumbling to the ground into the mess of clothes I left on the floor, and my phone goes flying out of my hand.

"Shit!" I yell as I try to untangle myself. Prim stands innocently at the door with her hands on her hips.

"So do I have to do everything around here or are you coming down to help with dinner? You know I don't know where anything is in the kitchen."

"Dammit Prim! I'm on the phone!"

"Looks more like you're on the floor."

I ignore her sassy remark and somehow manage to pick myself up off the floor to locate my phone, which flew under the bed.

"Hey? Peeta? You still there?"

"_Yeah, but I think I should let you go…sounds like you have your hands full over there_."

"More than full with this one," I say as I scowl at Prim and close the door in her face. I can hear her huff on the other side before she gives the door a swift kick and stomps down the stairs. "Sorry about that, so yeah, I'll talk to you later then?"

"_Sounds good, have a good night. I love you."_

I freeze in my spot. My jaw goes slack causing my mouth to hang open. What? Did I hear him right? Did he just say 'I love you'?

Fuck. That…that didn't just happen.

I try to swallow the lump in my throat, but my mouth feels like it's stuffed full of cotton balls. Panic starts to set in and I can already feel the sweat forming on my palms. Did he mean it? He sounded sincere, but he couldn't possibly have meant it, could he?

I need to say something, but what? Um, thanks? Do I say it back? I can't possibly say it back not now, not after the long awkward pause that I've already created. Would he even believe me if I did?

But who am I to talk, I did a similar thing at the hospital when I let it slip about the cheese buns. That was an accident though, and I didn't mean it in a romantic kind of way—more of a playful, joking kind of way. The more I think about it though, what's the difference? Do I actually love him? Like, _love_ love him? Maybe I do, but how the fuck would I know? Isn't it too soon for this?

My silence isn't helping. The fact that he hasn't hung up on me yet makes me think that he's insanely patient or it supports my theory that it was just an innocent slip. You know, like when you say bye to your grandmother and just throw in the polite 'I love you' at the end? No need to make a big deal over it. Shit. I need to hang up.

"I-I…uh…I'll talk to you later," I stammer before hanging up and throwing my phone on my bed like it's on fire.

That didn't happen. It was just a simple slip-up. He didn't mean it. There's no way he could have.

I decide to deal with it the same way I always do with awkward moments like this…sleep on it and pretend it never happened.

* * *

Under normal circumstances, I'd be eagerly looking forward to dinner tonight with Peeta and his dad. But given what happened last night over the phone and all of the other stuff over the past few days, my head hasn't stopped spinning and my shitty night's sleep doesn't help much for the dull throb just behind my eyelids.

Peeta didn't call back or text me before I fell asleep last night, which only fueled my already overly active mind. It's no wonder that I'm a nervous wreck as I tear apart my closet, still only clad in my bra and underwear. I glance over at the clock and it's already 5:30. Shit. Desperate and out of options, I sneak into Prim's room and find an orange and white sundress that seems appropriate—nice but not like I'm trying too hard to impress. Mr. Mellark likes everyone and according to Peeta, he's already thrilled about us dating, so what am I worried about?

Peeta on the other hand, I'm not really sure what to expect when I lightly rap on the door. We need to talk about this, about what happened, but maybe tonight isn't the best time. I just need to get through this evening without making a fool of myself and after his dad leaves, then we should talk. I'm not a hundred percent sure what I'll say or how I'll even get the conversation started, but hopefully my usual tactic of just rambling on will be enough to get the ball rolling.

All my apprehension melts away when the door opens and Peeta greets me with that sexy, lopsided smirk of his that just makes my body hum with pleasure. If he's harboring any hurt feelings from our awkward phone conversation, he's hiding it well.

"Hey." It's all I manage to say as my eyes rake over him. He looks handsome in his light blue buttoned-up oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of khaki cargo shorts.

My heart flutters under his gaze and the heat radiating from my cheeks quickly spreads to my neck. "Wow, you look…" He pauses as he offers a hand to me and when I accept it, he lifts my arm over my head and slowly turns me around, the skirt of my dress twirling about my knees. He lets out a low whistle and pulls me to his chest. "You look gorgeous."

God, he smells good. "Is your dad here yet?"

"Nope. He said he was running a half hour late, so you only have me to entertain you until dinner's ready." Peeta takes my purse and sets it down on the hall table.

The apartment is spotless and I'm thoroughly impressed when I see the table. He went all out with trying to recreate the experience at _Oasis_: the stark white china, stemless wine glasses, right down to the quaint arrangement of lavender and yellow and white daisies in the middle of the table. Wildflowers are my favorite; they're the only flowers that I'll tolerate.

I seat myself on a barstool at the kitchen island and grin like a fool when I realize that this is the exact spot that Peeta and I first had sex. I watch as he attends to a simmering pot on the stove, the familiar aroma of the contents wafting in my direction as he stirs the contents.

"Is that the stew?" I ask as I prop my chin in my palm. He nods and carefully ladles out a spoonful, blowing across the top of it before bringing it to my mouth. My taste buds dance when I wrap my lips around the spoon and lick it clean, the taste of lamb mingled with the tart sweetness of plums making my stomach growl audibly. My eyes flutter closed as I savor the taste. "That may even be better than the kind they serve at _Oasis_."

"That's quite the compliment coming from you." I open my eyes when I feel Peeta's thumb trace the corner of my mouth. "Missed some."

His eyes widen when I grab hold of his hand and lick his thumb clean. Thirty minutes until his dad arrives. There's a lot I could do in thirty minutes.

"Hold that thought," he whispers as he retracts his hand. "I just need to check on the tarts in the oven downstairs. Don't you dare move an inch."

I attempt a pout, but it quickly fades into a smirk when leans in to place a chaste kiss to my lips. When the door closes behind him, I look around the room. Good thing I'm wearing a dress, if there really is a chance of having a quickie before his dad arrives, so I bounce off the stool and head over to the couch to wait for Peeta to return.

Maybe I was overreacting about the whole 'I love you' thing; everything seems to be going a hundred times better than I would have imagined. Why did I even doubt that he'd be anything but his normal self tonight?

The ancient cordless phone in the apartment rings, startling me from my daydream of what I'm going to do to Peeta first when he returns. After the fourth ring, the answering machine picks up and I smile when I hear Peeta's overly upbeat message. Unfortunately for me though, it's short-lived. My smile falters and my chest tightens when I hear the smooth, velvety voice of a young woman after the beep.

"_Hey, Peeta? It's me again, how's it going? I so glad we finally had a chance to catch up, sounds like your summer's been going great so far. Mine's still pretty much a bore…but anyway. You're probably wondering how I got this number, well, your mother gave it to me awhile back, but that's beside the point. So I was thinking…do you remember how we used to always talk about taking that road trip out west, just you and me? Well, I finally have some time off work coming up and…and I was thinking that maybe we could finally go. You know, pack up and maybe head out for a week or two? Anyway, I'm probably going to get cut off soon by your machine soon, but yeah, think it over and let me know, OK? My number hasn't changed, so you know where to reach me. Oh, and Peeta? I...I miss you. OK then, talk to you later I hope...bye._"

What. The. Fuck.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Dun dun dun! Sorry for the cliff hanger, or am I? Hehe. I hope the length of this chapter makes up for the longer than expected wait. My muse wasn't cooperating with me for the better part of this chapter but it's back and hopefully to stay! I hope you enjoyed my subtle nods to cannon in this chapter, I love weaving them in when I can. Three more chapters after this folks (and perhaps an epilogue)! GAH, that sounds so scary to me!

Oh, and if I left you feeling cheated out of more Everlark smut, I plan on posting what happened after that little smut scene as a Freaky Fic Friday post over on tumblr either this week or next week, so look for it there if you're interested!

Thanks to my dear friend _**Court81981**_ for taking a quick read through of this chapter, if you haven't already, you should check out her stories! I continue to be humbled by those of you who have kept with me on this journey; your lovely reviews and PMs are what keep me writing. I love reading them all and love hearing from you!

Come and visit me on tumblr (pookieh)!


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer:** This fanfic is rated 'M' for language and sexual content. I do not own any of the characters of The Hunger Games.

* * *

**Chapter 23: Fight or Flight?**

I sit, staring at the blinking little red light on the machine, each flash steadily chipping away at what little confidence I have coming here tonight. I'm not sure how long I sit here, just staring at it, but I can't force myself to move. For a brief moment, I consider leaning over and pushing the delete button; it's tempting, but my conscience is holding me back.

Who the fuck was that?

Oh god…was that the ex? Who else could it be? Does he still keep in touch with her? Well fuck…obviously. Shit, shit, shit. I never asked if they were still friends when we were playing that stupid game of his on our first date. My overactive imagination is pulling me in a hundred different directions all at once and can't seem to focus on any one thought for more than a few seconds.

And a road trip? He's never mentioned anything about a fucking road trip to me before! If he wants to go on one, why didn't he just ask _me_? My palms are starting to sweat as I run through all the possibilities of who the hell this girl is. Maybe it's nothing; maybe I'm overreacting and there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this. Maybe she's just a friend. But when she said she missed him…no, the way her voice wavered ever so slightly when she uttered those words—there was something else there.

My eyes flicker over to the door. Where the hell is Peeta? How long does it take to checking on a couple of fucking tarts? I'm surprised there isn't a hole through my bottom lip yet from the amount of chewing on it that I've been doing.

I have to say something. This is going to eat me alive if I don't.

As if on cue, the door to the apartment swings opens and I hold my breath, hoping to God it's not his dad already, but instead it's Peeta who walks in balancing a tray with four tarts in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. I watch him suspiciously as he places the tray down on the kitchen counter and wait to see if he notices the flashing light on the answering machine. He sets the bottle of wine down before he grabs the wooden spoon off the counter and turns his attention back to the stove, oblivious to my silence.

Taking a deep breath, I steady myself and try to get my erratic heart rate under control. Might as well get straight to the point while I still have my wits. I scoot to the edge of the couch and grip the cushions tightly between my fingers, hoping it'll somehow keep me grounded so I don't lose my temper.

"Uh so…can I ask you something?"

"Of course, anything," he says as he sets the spoon down and starts riffling through a drawer.

Shit. This is going to be harder than I thought; how do I do this tactfully? I don't want to come off as incriminating, not right away at least. Blunt and straight to the point. That usually works best.

"Um…do you, uh…still keep in touch with your ex?"

The rustling comes to a halt, and the room goes quiet once again. I peer over my shoulder to see what he's doing, but his back is to me as he leans over the sink. My heart is in my throat as I impatiently wait for a response. Something clinks against the metal surface before he clears his throat.

"Um, not really." The inflection in his voice at the end of his sentence is unsettling—was that a statement or a question?

What? You've got to be kidding me. I narrow my eyes at him before glancing back and forth between the answering machine and the tense muscles that are straining beneath the back of his shirt. Is that the best he can come up with? The awkward pause before answering me doesn't do much for settling my suspicions. Is he trying to hide something?

I struggle as I wrestle between the anger that's starting to build and the rational part of my brain that's telling me I shouldn't jump to conclusions, that I should give him the benefit of the doubt and just trust him. He hasn't given me any reason to doubt him before, so doesn't he at least deserve the chance to explain himself? I'll give him another shot.

"You sure?" I ask as I cross my arms defensively over my ribs.

Peeta finally turns to face me, and those blue eyes of his lock on me instantly. "Well, I'm a little confused as to what brought this up all of sudden, but if you really want to know, no, we don't normally talk. After we went our separate ways, she made it pretty clear that she didn't want anything to do with me ever again."

Huh. Instead of quelling my curiously, his vagueness over the matter only fuels it. The wheels of my overactive imagination start spinning again. What could he possibly have done to make her not want anything to do him? Was it a mutual breakup? I can't help it—I take the chance and push my luck.

"So you're not still friends with her?" I'm not sure what I expect, but I watch him closely for a reaction to my prodding.

He lets out a sigh as he braces his hands against the counter. "Like I said, we don't really talk much anymore, but that doesn't mean I've cut off all ties to her. We had the same group of friends at school so it was kind of hard eliminating her from my life altogether. She's been, uh, trying to get in contact with me again for the past few weeks though."

Of course. It all makes sense now. All those phone calls I overheard. Here I was thinking they were just from some random school friends. It must have been her all along. But if I recall correctly, he always seemed pretty damn friendly when he was talking to her. Damn it. My heart beats wildly against my chest as a wave of jealousy washes over me.

"Were you ever going to mention any of this to me?"

He pauses, his mouth opening and closing without speaking a word. He tries again. "Honestly? I didn't think it was that big a deal or worth bringing up, I didn't want to worry you for no reason. I've been trying to avoid her calls, hoping that she'll take the hint and stop. I think it's working though, I haven't heard from her in a while."

A bitter laugh escapes my lips before I can suppress it. The frustration and stress that's been steadily building over the past few weeks, from work and from what's been going on between us lately, are starting to surface. My conscience is telling me to just let it go and bite my tongue, but that won't get me any answers. It doesn't take long for my quick temper to rear its ugly head.

"Didn't want me to worry?" I hiss. So much for keeping my cool. "Why, did you think I'd overreact or something? Couldn't you give me some credit? You didn't even give me a chance to react, let alone overreact!" Peeta stares at me in bewilderment from my sudden outburst. I force myself to take a deep, cleansing breath before I ask the real question that I'm burning to have answered. "What does she want?"

Peeta pushes himself away from the counter and takes a few tentative steps towards the couch, stopping to perch himself on the arm of the chair next to me. "Listen, I didn't mean to hurt you by keeping you in the dark about this, that's the last thing I wanted. So if I did, then I'm sorry. You're right. I should have said something. As for what she wants? I have no idea, but I stopped trying to figure Eby out ages ago."

"Eby?"

"Enobaria."

Well shit. Doesn't that sound exotic and unique and well, everything I'm not? It doesn't help when I try to picture this girl: tall, skinny, flowing black hair, tanned, perky boobs, and the perfect waist-to-hip ratio no doubt. Who am I to compare?

I shake my head to clear my mind of the offending image and glance over at Peeta with raised eyebrows, waiting for him to further explain himself. When he doesn't, I redirect my gaze to the end table by my side. His eyes follow mine to the blinking red light on the answering machine, and something indecipherable flashes in his eyes. Fear? Panic? Guilt?

The moment he puts two and two together is discernible; his face changes from an expression of confusion to one that is unreadable. He purses his lips as he leans over and presses the delete button, finally stopping that irritating red light from taunting me further.

"Didn't you want to hear what she said?"

Peeta sighs. "No, not really." He crosses his arms over his chest and takes a deep breath. "But by the way you're acting, I have a feeling you're going to tell me regardless."

The tone of his voice rubs me the wrong way and my fingers dig into the couch cushions. "Why did you break up?"

"Classic case of mutual incompatibility."

"Right," I drawl while rolling my eyes.

Everyone likes Peeta. He has this mysterious power of putting everyone around him at ease; he could charm the rattle off a rattlesnake if it let him. So why in the world would this girl have a "compatibility issue" with him? Something in the monotonous tone of his answer seems off. I don't buy it, there has to be more. Peeta must pick up on my skepticism.

"What, you don't believe me?"

"I didn't say _that_, I just think there's more to the story than you're letting on."

"Seriously?" His eyes widen as he releases his arms to rest them against his knees. "Listen, my dad's going to be here any minute. Can we just put this on hold until after he leaves? Then maybe we can sit down and talk about this calmly?"

"_Excuse_ me?" I jump to my feet, my temper flaring and my fists clenched tightly at my sides. Calmly? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? My palms are clammy with sweat so I wipe them off on the skirt of my dress, noticing that the bodice is now wrinkled from sitting down for so long. Great. I look like a mess. Maybe I do need some time to calm down—or cool off, more like it. I stand but before I can take a step, Peeta leaps to his feet and grabs hold of my arm.

"Katniss, wait, where are you going? Don't leave, please! I'm sorry!"

I can't believe he'd think that I'd run away right now! I frown and tug my arm away before brushing out my dress. Why did I wear this damn thing? I feel ridiculous now. "I'm going to the bathroom, if that's all right with you? Or do I need to ask permission?"

Dejected, Peeta withdraws his hand and sits down on the couch. The sting of guilt hits me when he lets out a labored breath, and I immediately regret the harshness of my tone. But I need to regain my composure and regroup my thoughts before I say something I'll really regret.

As I make my way to the bathroom, something in his bedroom catches my eye. I quickly glance over my shoulder back at Peeta, who's hunched over with his elbows on his knees and his face buried in his hands. I quickly poke my head through the doorway and the first thing I notice is that the beautiful mural that once dominated the wall across from me has been painted over. What the hell? My eyes scan the rest of the room and my look of shock turns to a scowl. Sitting there on the floor next to the closet are a few boxes and a duffle bag; it looks like he's been packing. Oh God, is he really going through with that trip? Motherfucker.

I can feel the heat on my cheeks as I stomp over to the bathroom and dramatically slam the door behind me. When I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I cringe. My face is a hot, sweaty mess and a few frizzy strands of hair angle out of my head chaotically. I turn the faucet on full blast and splash some cool water on my face and neck, taking a moment to close my eyes and inhale a few deep breaths. As I shut off the tap, I run a wet hand over my head to tame my hair and glare at my reflection. "Get your shit together," I whisper.

When I get back to the living room, Peeta is pacing back and forth in front of the television, arms crossed over his chest and muttering to himself under his breath. The moment he notices me, he looks up with weary eyes.

"Katniss, I don't want to fight—"

"Peeta, just wait," I interrupt, putting a hand up to stop him. "I'm only going to ask you this one last time, are you _sure_ there's nothing you're not telling me?"

His opens his mouth as he eyes frantically search my face, what for, I'm not sure. Again, he stands there speechless; his silence finally fueling my irrational fury to push me over the edge.

"Right, that's what I thought." I shake my head dismissively and let out a frustrated grunt as I turn to make my way towards the front door. So much for taking the high road.

"Katniss, wait, can you just looking at me?" The desperation in his voice stops me in my tracks and I heed his request, turning to peer at him over my shoulder. "There's nothing going on! Why do you keep insisting there is? She said she's moved on, why won't you believe me!"

"Well it sure didn't sound like that on her message! Sounded to me like she was still just a _tad_ hung up on you." I turn back around to head for the door and just to placate some of my anger, I call out over my shoulder, "Oh, and she's all in for your little road trip that you've been planning. Better finish packing!"

"What?"

"Seriously, Peeta?" I laugh as I turn back around to face him head on. "Maybe you should discuss it with her since she sure as hell thinks it's a go."

"Now just wait a minute, Katniss, can you just sit down so we can talk about this?"

"I thought you just said you didn't want to talk about this right now. But sure, start talking then." I stand my ground and my hand snaps to my hip as I motion with the other for him to continue. "You can start with why the fuck I had to find out about your overly determined ex-girlfriend through a voice message!"

Peeta is toe-to-toe with me in an instant, jaw tense and fists clenched at his sides. I look up and have to crane my neck to meet his glare. Damn it. Why do I have to be so short?

"First off, you didn't just find out about her. I already told you that I dated someone before you and it's the only relationship I've ever had. I'm not sure what you want me to say but if for some reason it makes you feel any better, I broke it off with her."

"Yeah, that makes me feel _way_ better," I say, my voice thick with sarcasm.

"Katniss, I'm not exactly sure what you're trying to get at, but if you're trying to push me into a corner in hopes of catching me in something, it's not going to happen. I haven't done anything wrong, and I don't have anything to hide from you."

"So you didn't think that with all the shit happening with my exes all coming out of the woodworks to haunt me that, oh I don't know, it wouldn't be a good idea to just come clean and say 'oh and by the way Katniss, I'm still friends'—"

"I'm not friends with her!" he says through gritted teeth, the sharp edge to his voice catching me off guard. "And even if I was, what's wrong with that!"

"Whatever!" I shout back, throwing my hands up in the air like a mad woman. "That doesn't change the fact that she's deliberately trying to weasel her way back into your life. Can you honestly look me in the eye and say that you don't have _any_ clue about what she wants? Seriously, Peeta, are you that naive?"

"It's not like that, and you know it."

"_Do_ I? How would I know? It's not like you talk to me about this kind of shit!"

"Hold on a minute, if I'm not mistaken, I had to find out about not only one, but _two_ of _your_ exes not from you openly telling me about them, but after they both showed up unexpectedly. Oh, and the fact that they both happen to work with you which means you're around them for the better part of your day, it's just fan-fucking-tastic. And in case you haven't noticed yet, neither of them is over you! How do you think that makes me feel? Knowing that my girlfriend is constantly surrounded by two guys who she's fu—"

He stops abruptly, his eyes widening as I stare daggers back at him, daring him to finish his sentence. "Go on," I seethe, "two guys who she's _what_?"

Peeta breaks away from our heated stare and drops his eyes to floor, clearly ashamed of where he was going with that last sentence. Does he really have no faith in me? Does he really think that I've been harboring secret feelings for either of them this whole time? Does he really think I'm capable of hurting him like that?

"That was low, Peeta, thanks. How the hell was I supposed to know that they'd show up like that? Gale said he got a job on campus and the odds of Gloss getting the exact same job as me at the exact same fucking quarry were one in a million. Don't you trust me?"

His head snaps back up. "Of course I trust you! It's _them_ I don't trust."

Classic. I can't believe he'd think that I'd allow either of them do anything. Or that I'd even be tempted to. I've done nothing but behave civilly towards them for work's sake. Nothing more.

"I didn't ask for any of this, Peeta, I just wanted to come home to get away from all this bullshit. I just wanted spend my summer in peace with Prim and my family."

"Well, seems to me the odds weren't exactly in your favor, were they?"

"Really, Peeta?" I ask incredulously, taken aback by the smugness in his voice.

Peeta's hands fly to his head and he grabs two fistfuls of hair, tugging at the strands with a frustrated groan.

"Where is all of this coming from, Katniss? You said yourself that you didn't care about my past and that you didn't want to hear about it! So why the double standard? Why does my past matter all of a sudden? What happened in the past is exactly that…in…the…past."

"Well don't you think this is a little different? I meant that I didn't want to know what _happened_, past tense, Peeta! _Past_ tense!"

"But there's nothing _going_ on, Katniss…emphasis on the _present_ tense." He pauses to run a shaky hand through his now mussed up curls. "Why are we still arguing? For the last time, there's nothing going on between me and her, I'm with you, Katniss, I chose _you_. I can't help it if she keeps calling me, and like I said, I've been trying to avoid her but what else do you want me to do, tell her off? Be a dick? Cause if that's what you want, then I'll do it."

His question throws me for a loop, temporarily easing my flaring temper. "Of course I don't want you to be a dick, but I don't know. Does she even know you have a girlfriend?"

"Of course she does! God, give _me_ some credit, Katniss! It was the first thing I told her the first time she called."

Well then, she's a persistent little bitch, isn't she? Why wouldn't she be though—it was probably only a matter of time after their break-up before she realized what she lost. So no wonder why she's trying her best to squeeze her way back into his life despite Peeta being with me. I haven't even met this girl and I already hate her.

I should probably just stop while I'm ahead. I know I've already taken this too far and I'm still trying to reel in my irrational anger, but I'm on a roll. I can't seem to stop myself from holding in all the things that have been building and eating away at me for, oh what, the past two months almost? It's then that Delly's words from the basketball court last week decide to shove their way into the forefront of my mind.

"Oh, and by the way, I heard something interesting at your basketball game the other day, and from all people, guess who?"

"What are you talking about _now_?"

"Delly! That's who! Oh you know, just that you're quitting school and going to stay here and run the bakery so your dad can retire early. Is that true?"

"Yes."

"Wait, what? Why? Why would you do that? And your dad agreed to it?" Peeta purses his lips and nods. "Why didn't you tell me? How do you think it feels to hear that kind of news from Delly-fucking-Cartwright? Did you even plan on telling me any of this? Or was this just another one of your 'I don't want to worry poor Katniss about this' kind of deals?"

"Whoa, first off, I have no idea how Delly found out about that. The only people who knew are my parents…so I guess that answers that question. I can't help it if my mom likes to air out our family's dirty laundry for all her friends hear and weigh in on."

"Well, Delly said the reason you're quitting school was because of me…me! That _I'm_ the reason you're throwing away your future, it's all because of me!"

Peeta furrows his brow in confusion. "She said that?"

I try to recall her exact words, but well, so maybe those weren't her exact words, but that's pretty much what she was insinuating. I nod my head. "Pretty much. So is it true?"

"Ok, can we back up for a second? I had every intention of telling you everything…eventually. I just wanted to make sure I had all this shit sorted out first. I'm not flat out quitting school. I'm going to finish up through distance ed, get my credits online so I can get a business degree instead. After the whole fallout from my parents' divorce, it made the most sense. My dad tried to talk me out of it, but I insisted. This is what I _want_ Katniss. Is that so hard to understand?"

No, I guess that's pretty simple to understand really, but I can't help the nagging question that's now weighing on my mind. "What does your mother think about this?"

Peeta sighs and takes a step back, putting an uncomfortable distance between us. He kicks his foot against the carpet. "Why does it matter?" he mumbles.

"Listen," I say, my tone a bit more calm now that I'm encroached on the sensitive topic of his mother. "I know things haven't been easy with your mother, but why don't you ever talk to me about her? About what she did to you when you were a kid? I know about what happened. God, the whole town knows. I can tell it still bothers you, and I just wish there was something I could do to help you."

Fuck. Something in the way the muscles in his face tense, his jaw tightens and he squints his eyes tips me off that I've gone too far. I've finally crossed the invisible line that he's drawn around the topic of his mother. His fists clench, and he takes another step back.

"Katniss, listen to me," he says, his voice low and eerily calm. "What happened with my mom is in the past. I've come to terms with it and I'm over it. Why would I want to dredge things up that are dead and buried? So they can continue to haunt me for the rest of my life? No thank you. My mom is finally gone, out of my life forever. I _never_ have to deal with her again, or see her for that matter. It's a fresh start, something I never thought in a million years that I'd get.

"So _sorry_ if I don't want to talk about my battered childhood, or about how she controlled the better part of my life for over twenty years, or about how the very first memory I even have of her is one where she hits me. Is that the kind of stuff you want to hear? I was four when it happened, and it was because I took a cookie off a baking sheet that was cooling. Can you believe that? For taking a fucking cookie! Or maybe you want to hear about how she never ceased to remind me of how I've failed her with my pitiful life, about how useless and worthless I am and that I'll never amount to anything. That I'll end up working at the bakery for the rest of my pathetic life. Ironic really, since that's all I've ever wanted to do.

"So why would I want to talk about any of this if it doesn't matter anymore? Why are you making this into something that I should want to talk about? People deal with their issues differently, Katniss, and not everyone wants to be so transparent about their problems. I just want to be happy. Can't you see that? My life is finally turning around, she's gone, I get the bakery, and most importantly…I have you. Why can't you just be happy for me?"

Peeta's speech leaves me floored. I stand there paralyzed, unable to look him in the eye, overcome by too many emotions and frustrated by my lack of vocabulary at the moment. What do you even say after that? I curse myself for not being better at comforting people.

"Peeta…I…I'm so sorry that—"

"Don't. Just…don't. Please, of all people, I don't want you to pity me. I don't want it, and I don't need it."

"I…I just don't get it, how do you keep yourself together? How you are…I don't know…" Fuck, this isn't coming out at all as I'd hoped. "How are you the way you are after what happened?"

He lets out a sarcastic laugh. "Walls, Katniss. Everyone has them, and believe me, it wasn't easy. I spent a lot of time and effort getting to where I am now. I had a shrink for the better part of the school year...I haven't told anyone that before. Do you know how hard it was keeping that from my mom?

"When you left after graduation, I thought I'd never see you again, and for some miracle if we ever did meet again, I was certain you'd want nothing to do with me. I tried to forget about you, god knows how hard I tried. I threw myself into my schoolwork, joined every sports team possible and well, I tried my luck at dating. There were other girls, believe me there were, but all I ever saw when I closed my eyes and kissed them was…you."

Why is he telling me this? Is he trying to make me jealous? Great, I already knew that I was dating one of the town's most sought-after men; good to know he has that effect everywhere he goes. But can I really blame him? I did the same thing when I left for university, tried to lose myself in whatever—whoever—I could in hopes of forgetting him. Look where that got me. A small part of me is still irrationally annoyed with him…well, with the situation we're in is more like it.

He lets out a feeble laugh and shakes his head before continuing, "But do you want to know what the sick and twisted part of it all was? The first real relationship I had was with a girl who turned out to be my mother-in-training. I don't even know why I was attracted to her in the first place. So now do you understand why there's no way in hell I'd ever want to be with Enobaria again?"

A certain memory tugs at the back of my mind, the one after he'd kissed me for the first time after graduation. I vividly remember how his mother screamed at him and threatened that the only way he'd ever get the bakery was if he chose someone she approved of, someone like her. So perhaps on some desperately subconscious level, that's why he was drawn to her.

I startle when Peeta reaches out for me, taking hold of my fingers and running his thumb across the back of my hand. "If you really want to help me, all I ask is that you trust me and…and if you can…love me."

The hard edge that was once present in his voice is now long gone. He looks drained. Physically and emotionally. He brings my hand to his face and drags his lips across my knuckles. "I'm sorry, Katniss. I love you."

There it is again. Those three little words. Three little words that make my heart swell with warmth in my chest, but then contract with fear and uncertainty. All he wants is for someone to love him, is that really too much to ask? I'd be lying if I said the feelings weren't there, I'm almost certain they are. But the thought of actually acknowledging them…saying them out loud for him to hear…well, that's easier said than done. How can he express his love for me so openly, so freely? And why do I keep denying this perfectly flawed man the only thing he truly wants from me? He's never asked for anything else, so why am I still trying to complicate this?

I look back to his face, our eyes meeting once again. "Did you mean it? When you said it the first time?"

"Of course I did—"

"But how could you possibly mean it? It's too soon, and we're too young, how do you even know what love is?" He releases my hand from his grasp and tentatively lifts his hand to cup my cheek, grazing his thumb against my lips.

"Katniss, I've loved you since I was five years old. Maybe it started out as a crush, but that doesn't mean it has any less value. If anything, I've only fallen deeper and deeper in love with you as time went on. Do you know how happy you made me when you showed up on my doorstep that one night? I kept telling myself that it was all just a dream, that it wasn't real. Over these past few months, you've made me fall in love with you a hundred times over.

"You want to know how I know this is real? Why there's no doubt in my mind that I'm in love with you? The moment I found out that you were in the hospital, the two days I spent by your bedside not knowing if you'd ever wake up, the thought of you being taken away from me, only when you'd finally come back into my life, _that's _when I knew. You're my whole life, Katniss, I would never be happy again if I lost you. _That's_ how I know."

Leave it to Peeta to turn this around hundred and eighty degrees from a heated argument to a heartfelt confession of his undying love for me. There's no doubt in my mind that he cares for me deeply, that everything he said is true. Then why am I still so confused? So hesitant to let myself be happy too? My mind is too bogged down with too many emotions; I need time to think this through. I open my mouth, but he presses his thumb against my lips.

"Listen, we obviously still have a lot to learn about each other, but I don't see this as a set back, so please don't see it as one. I'm not going to give up on us. I'm not going anywhere."

"I have to go," I whisper, retracting my hand from his. His expression falls and all the color drains from his face. I'm not thinking clearly when I all but stumble to the front door in search of my purse and my keys. The moment my hand is on the doorknob, Peeta is behind me again, his hand on my arm preventing me from leaving.

"Katniss, please, don't go, not like this."

"Let me go," I say stubbornly, trying to wrestle my arm from his grasp.

"I can't," he says, his voice cracking.

I whip my head around and stare him down, no longer able to control my flaring temper. "I said, let me go," I say through gritted teeth.

This time he doesn't argue. His hand falls from my arm and he takes a step back in defeat. I watch as he turns his back to me, his shoulders falling and ribs expanding from labored breaths. A pang of guilt pierces through me. I am such a fucking bitch.

But I'm already in too deep, and there's no digging myself out of this one. Maybe one day I'll learn to keep my fucking mouth shut. I do this to myself so I only have myself to blame. I try to hold it all in, to take care of things on my own, keep the people I love in the dark so they're not burdened by my bullshit. But look where it gets me.

Peeta doesn't deserve this. No one deserves this. I don't deserve him.

I open my mouth to say something as I grip the doorknob, my fingers starting to turn white from my death grip, but I choke on my words. He's already shut down. I need to leave.

When I open the door and shut it quickly behind me, I lower my head as I curse under my breath. However, when I lift my head to gather myself and get the hell out of here, I freeze. My blood drains from my face as I lock eyes with Mr. Mellark, leaning up against the railing with a remorseful look upon his face.

Fuck. How long has he been out here? Judging by the look of pity and shame, he heard enough.

I should say something, I know I should, but I just stand there speechless. He wants to say something, but I'm not a hundred percent sure I want to hear it. I finally mutter a quick apology as I fly down the stairs, my face red and kicking myself for acting like such a petulant child, not only in front of Peeta, but his dad too!

I stumble to my car and shove the key in the ignition. When I turn the key, nothing happens. Fuck! Of all the most inopportune times, this piece of shit has to die on me now? I slam my hand down hard on the steering wheel, as if hitting it will really do anything. Tears start to sting my eyes. Tears of anger. Tears of frustration. Tears of embarrassment.

How could I have been such an idiot? I knew this was too good to be true, all of this. Desperate, I try the key one more time. When it finally clicks and the engine roars to life, a strangled sob escapes my lips.

As I back out of the driveway, I have absolutely no idea where I'm going. I can't go back home, not like this, not when that'll be the first place he'll look for me. A sick feeling settles deep in the pit of my stomach. _If_ he'll even look for me. Why would he come after me? I'm the one who walked out, the one who pushed him too far and lost it.

Why did I let things get so out of hand? Of all people to dump all my repressed bullshit on, I had to pick him. Fuck. He gave me every reassurance possible and I still had to go and throw it back in his face. Why _was_ I so upset?

As I wait at a seemingly never-ending red light, it finally dawns on me and I'm almost too mortified to admit it. Finally, after all these years of thinking that I was what he truly wanted, he can see me for who I really am.

Stubborn. A hypocrite. Selfish. A coward.

I hate him for it.

But I hate myself for it even more.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Sorry for ANOTHER cliff hanger…hehe. This chapter was a little difficult for me to write because I love my Everlark and it saddens me when they fight…but it was only a matter of time before all the things that were building up in Katniss' mind would eventually send her over the edge. I hope you're not too upset with me, but I feel they both were right and both were wrong on certain issues, Peeta's just more forgiving and just wants to be happy. Katniss however just wants to stew and over analyze. Sigh.

Oh, and as I mentioned in the last chapter, if you felt that you wanted more after that little smut scene in Chapter 22, I posted an outtake as a Freaky Fic Friday post over on my tumblr last week. So if you want to read something to take away the sting of their fight, check out my tumblr page and search for _Ghosts of Seasons Past_, should be the second post to show up.

Thanks to **_Court81981_** for her amazing beta skills on this chapter and to _**Streetlightlove1**_ for taking a quick read through to ensure me that this chapter didn't suck :P. If you haven't already, you should check out _**Crash My Party**_ by _Court81981_ and _**A Healing Heart**_ by _Streetlightlove1_, two amazing AU stories that should definitely be on your reading list!

The amount of support my readers have shown for this story continues to blow me away, I love hearing from you and your thoughts as they help fuel my creativity and confidence in writing. To those of you who have reviewed, favorited, and are following, you are so amazing and make my day!

As always, come and visit me on tumblr (pookieh) so we can fangirl over Everlark and the release of the Catching Fire trailer!


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's Note:** I know a few readers were worried/confused as to why Katniss freaked out and walked out on Peeta after he spilled out his heart to her…I hope this chapter helps make some sense of what she was thinking. I forgot to mention that this was originally part of Chapter 23 but it was getting too long so I split it into two chapters. More notes at the end…so enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 24: Undone**

After my third loop around the perimeter of our small town, I find myself drawn in the direction of the only place where I know I can be alone with my thoughts. I turned my phone off after it signaled a second new text message, more out of fear than anything else—fear that I possibly might not like what he had to say. I truly am a coward.

I turn onto the quiet street, thankful that there's only one familiar car in the driveway as I pull up alongside the curb and slam my car into park. The drive has helped to calm me down a bit, but I can still feel the residual anger and guilt simmering away just below the surface of my collected facade. I need another opinion on all of this and from someone I know that understands me, but I just hope he's willing to stand me right now. I can barely stand myself.

It's almost pitch black out as I round the corner of the house, and even with the lights off on the back deck, my feet have traveled this path more times than I can remember. The gazebo comes into view and thanks to the cloudless sky and the bright moon that filters through the trees overhead, his silhouette gives off an almost godly glow. He doesn't hear my silent tread as I approach from behind. I notice that he's anxiously fidgeting with something in his hands as he looks out onto the glassy surface of the water with only the sound of a few chirping crickets interrupting the peaceful calm.

I peer over his shoulder and still my breathing when I catch sight of the familiar length of rope that's dotted with knots. It's been years since I've seen Finnick give in to this nervous habit of his. The first time I caught him struggling with that same piece of rope, I thought he was learning to tie knots for some Boy Scout badge. Turns out it was just his way of clearing his head. As we got older though, he said he'd mastered more discreet ways to overcome his stress that didn't involve carrying a foot of nautical rope tucked in his back pocket.

His hands move at their own accord and I focus in on the knot he's trying to complete, my eyes transfixed on the fluid motion of his deft fingers. I've watched him tie this particular kind of knot a hundred times so I am surprised when I see him falter. Then he stops. It's as though he's completely forgotten the next step. Something must really be bothering him because Finnick never forgets a step. If there's one thing Finnick knows best, it's knots.

"Now pass it over and then under again," I say encouragingly. He doesn't flinch or turn around to acknowledge my presence. Instead, he finishes tying the knot and exhales a slow, steady breath.

"You still remember. After all those hours I spent teaching you, I'm happy to see it wasn't a complete waste of my time." He sets the rope down on the wooden armrest beside him, but because I'm still a bit on edge and hyperaware from what's just transpired between Peeta and I, the subtle twitch of his hand doesn't go unnoticed. "So did you come all this way just to stand there? Or are you going to have a seat?" he says calmly, gesturing to the empty chair next to him.

I narrow my eyes at him, somewhat confused as to the facetious tone of his voice, almost as if he's been expecting me. He peers over his shoulder and gives me a quick once over and frowns. "All dressed up with no where to go?"

A small smile finds my face when I drop my gaze and notice the worn yet still clearly visible "_KE_" that I carved into the back of the empty chair when I was fifteen. "I'm surprised your parents still have these ratty old things." I kick the back of the old wooden chair and it creaks loudly. "I would have thought they'd have replaced them with those brightly colored plastic ones by now."

His hand finds the rope again, and he twirls it aimlessly between his fingers. I move to stand in front of him and his eyes meet mine for a brief second before they flit back down to the rope. When I don't answer him, he yanks on the end of it, and the intricate knot becomes a straight line again.

"Did you really come all the way over here to talk about chairs?"

Not wanting to give in to the emotions that are toying with my fragile composure right now, I turn my head to stare out over the lake. I need to keep it together. I'm not sure how long I just stand there in silence, watching the slight waves as they ripple across the water, but Finnick startles me when he clears his throat.

"Seems to me you've been pretty quiet lately. I haven't really heard from you in a few weeks so I just assumed everything was fine. Was I wrong?" I shrug and lift a hand to my neck to scratch at phantom hair tickling my skin. "You sure there's nothing you want to talk to me about, any secrets worth my time?"

"No, I'm an open book," I say flat out, my voice thick with sarcasm. "Everybody seems to know my secrets before I know them myself."

Finnick chuckles and shakes his head. "Unfortunately for you, I think that's true. So let me guess…boy troubles?"

I let out a long, slow sigh to gather myself. "We had a fight."

"You don't say." I shoot him a pointed stare, unappreciative of his tone. He holds up his hands and flashes me that charming smile of his. Those pearly whites of his have gotten him out of more than one sticky situation before, but he knows his efforts are lost on me. "So, lay it on me then, what'd you do this time?"

"Me?" I cross my arms over my chest and jut out my chin. "Why does it always have to be me?"

"Because, it always is you. That much hasn't changed, you know, your tendency to overreact."

He knows me too well. If I had something in my hands I'd have thrown it at him by now to wipe that smug smirk off his face. So instead I kick at the grass beneath my foot out of frustration, sending a clump of dirt flying into the air.

"Hey, I just mowed that!"

"You missed a spot," I huff before I plop down onto the empty chair, my left leg bouncing up and down off the ground rapidly as if I've got an uncontrollable twitch. Finnick repositions himself in his seat and turns to face me, letting out a low whistle as he takes in my scowl.

"Damn, I haven't seen you this pissed—"

"I'm not pissed."

"Well this…whatever it is you are…since…well, I don't know really. This ought to be good then."

His dismissal of my current emotional state as being anything but trivial causes my fists to clench the skirt of my dress, crumpling the fabric thanks to my clammy hands and the humidity. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, leaning my head back against he chair as I slowly count backwards from ten. When I reach one, I open my eyes and take another breath.

"Has Peeta every talked to you about his…his past relationships?"

"So we're just gonna jump right into this then…I was certain that we were going to dance around this for at least a half hour or so. No beating around the bush with you tonight, is there?"

"Just answer the question."

"Hey, I'm not the bad guy here so can you just take the attitude down a notch? And yes, I know all about his past relationship...minus the 's' since there's only been one. Enobaria." Just the mention of her name causes a chill to travel up my spine. "I actually met her at Ryan's wedding last year. They were still dating at the time and she was Peeta's plus one. Damn, she was fucking hot too; she wore this tight ass little number that made her legs go on for miles and her boobs—"

"Finnick!" I hiss. "You sure do know how to reassure a girl, don't you? You're clearly not going to be any help _at all_, are you?"

"Oh get over yourself already." The rope that was once in his hands goes flying through the air and lands in my lap. Perfect. Ammunition for later. "They broke up ages ago. They're over and done with. History. Why do you ask? Did something happen?"

Before I know it, the words are tumbling out of my mouth and I have to slow down and repeat myself a few times as I rehash the events that have passed. How Peeta had invited me over to have dinner with him and his dad, how I overheard the message from Enobaria on his answering machine. A flash of fury rushes through me again when I recap my not-so-proud moments during our argument and how Peeta wore his heart on his sleeve as he confessed his feelings for me.

Finnick doesn't interrupt me; he just sits there silently with his chin propped up on the back of his hand as he lets me get it all out of my system. When I have nothing left to say, my gasps for air heavy after cursing Peeta's name under my breath, I slump back into my seat and wait for him to lay into me.

But he doesn't say anything. He just stares at me, his green irises almost shimmering as the moonlight reflected from the water lights up his eyes.

"So aren't you going to say something or was it a waste of gas to drive here and listen to your silence?"

"Really? That's what's got your feathers all ruffled up?"

"Uh, excuse me? Did you hear anything I just said?" I'm met with silence once again, and Finnick raises his eyebrows at me. "God, where do I even start? Don't you think he was wrong to keep those things from me? I'm his _girlfriend_! Don't I deserve to be the first to know about what's going on in his life? Do you know how it felt to find out about those things through other people? And can you believe that he's actually considering going on that cross-country road trip with her? Alone? Just the two of them?"

"Whoa there, see? There you go, overreacting already. First off, he didn't lie to you about his ex; he told you that he dated someone before you and that it was the only relationship he's had, right?"

"Well, yeah, but why didn't he tell me they still talked?"

"Did you ask him? Before tonight that is?" I shake my head. "Figures. Now just humor me for a moment, pretend that they actually were still good friends, that they talked all the time and that still hung out together—would that bother you?"

I open my mouth to answer but close it immediately before the obvious answer slips out from my lips. Of course it would bother me. I'd always have a sick feeling in my gut of the off chance that whatever sparked them to date in the first place would somehow bring them back together again. I'd go crazy with worry, walking around on eggshells, waiting for something to happen.

Finnick sighs deeply. "So that's a yes. Now why would it bother you? Don't you trust him?"

"Of course I trust him, it's just…I wouldn't trust her to not try and pull something. She's already proven herself to be quite a persistent pain in my ass and I'd—"

It's then that I realize where Finnick is going with this. He's driving home the fact that I'm a hypocrite. This is exactly how Peeta must feel about me and my situation with Gale and Gloss. I know he eventually straight out told me that it bothers him, although I still think he should have told me earlier, but I wasn't really in the mindset at the time to understand why it did. But I thought _I_ was the insecure one in our relationship? Could it be possible that Peeta is just as insecure about me leaving him as I am with him leaving me?

This is why I need Finnick as a friend: he knows the right questions to ask to get me thinking, to see things clearly for what they really are.

"Hmmhmm…that's what I thought," he chuckles. I roll my eyes, but he knows I don't mean anything by it. "So if you trust him, don't you think you should trust his judgment on what he needs to tell you and what he doesn't? Come on, do you really want what he's doing or thinking every single minute of his life?"

"Uh…no, but that's not what I'm talking about. He should know better. If it's something dealing with me or our relationship, he should bring it up! We should talk about it! Why should I have to be the one to drag it out of him? After all the bullshit with my past relationships coming out of no where to bite me in the ass, don't you think that would be reason enough for him to not want to hide anything from me?"

"Come on, Katniss. Peeta's a nice guy, so when someone calls him up, even if it is his ex-girlfriend, and they want to chat, he's not just going to give them the cold shoulder and hang up in their face. He's just being polite. It's part of who he is. So he's not choosing her over you or something. Is that what you think? You think that just because he's not telling her to fuck off and leave him alone that he'll just wake up one day and realize that he'd rather be back with her?"

I pout, knowing full well that he has a point, even if I don't want to acknowledge it. Peeta admitted himself that he'd never get back together with her, but why leave that possibility open by keeping in contact with her? Cutting off all ties seems to be a pretty good idea to me. If there's nothing more to gain from a relationship from her, why keep her around? There has to be some unfinished business going on there, but what? Is that why she asked him to go away with her? I can feel my temples start to throb from all my sudden outbursts and then ebbing of anger over the past few hours.

"But he was packing! I saw it with my own eyes, Finnick!"

"You've got to be shitting me right now," he groans, scrubbing his face with his hands. "I know you're just being a stubborn brat right now because you're already talking in circles, but honestly, don't you think you're being a bit unfair? Do you honestly think he'd intentionally throw away the relationship he's dreamed about since he was three feet tall? The relationship he finally has with _you_…the only girl I've watched him secretly pine after for the better part of his life? The only girl that no other could possibly hold a candle to in his eyes? The only girl that he's wanted so badly that never gave him the time of day or thought twice about him? Well until just recently that is. Do you really think he'd throw _all_ of that away just to go on some fucking trip with some broad who's just looking for a dick to suck for the week?"

I half cringe and half laugh at his last words. Leave it to Finnick to go on some all high-and-mighty speech just to end it with the word "dick."

"No," I whisper as a wave of guilt washes over me again. "I know he cares about me."

"Then why are you complicating things? You need to fix this and beg for his forgiveness for blowing this whole ex-girlfriend thing out of proportion."

"But I can't, not after the way I walked out on him...oh god, and his dad!" I groan and bury my face in my hands. "How am I ever going to face either of them again?"

"Wait, what? Are you telling me that you just up and walked out on him right after he told you that he loved you? Jesus, Katniss! Why the fuck would you do that?"

"I don't know! I freaked, okay?! There he was, baring his soul to me, telling me the sweetest and most heartfelt things I've ever heard, and then he had to go and tell me that he loves me again...what was I supposed to do?"

"Not walk out on him, that's for sure."

"Damn it, Finnick! I know that! I wasn't thinking clearly! But what do I do now? I'm just so confused. His words and his actions don't line up. He says he loves me but keeps me in the dark. He says he trusts me but still harbors insecurities about me leaving him. How is any of this healthy for our relationship? And as for his ex, based on his actions, aren't I justified to be a tiny bit worried?"

"No," Finnick says. "Because whatever happened in the past is in the past. We've all made decisions we're not too thrilled about, so the way I see it, as long as you learn from your mistakes, who gives a shit? You can't go on with your life always worrying about it and carrying regret. That shit will eat you alive. I've known you long enough to know that you're not the most forgiving person, so aren't you tired? Tired of holding in all that resentment? Isn't it exhausting holding on to everything that's ever bothered you? Keeping score of who did or said what to you that hurt your pride? You need to learn how to forgive and forget and just move the fuck on already."

Yet again, he's hit the nail on the head with that one. I look down to the rope in my lap, guilt written all over my face, and I'm tempted to take up Finnick's hobby. I'm surprised at how my fingers remember every twist and pull as I begin to fiddle with ends; forming knots to connect them, only to yank them apart when my idle fingers begin to twitch.

What is it about my past relationships that I'm still holding on to? I know I definitely don't have feelings for either Gale or Gloss anymore, so what is it about them that continues to irk me? Why _do_ I do this to myself? Why do I find a way to sabotage whatever good is going on in my life? I didn't even give Peeta the chance to really explain himself, and who knows, I may never get that chance given my behavior tonight.

"So how many more times do you plan on breaking his heart?" I close my eyes, no longer able to meet Finnick's gaze. "Cut the guy some slack already and just admit to him how you feel. If anything, he deserves to know that."

"But I don't know how I feel about him."

"Bullshit. You do love him. Maybe you can't see it yourself yet or maybe you're just too plain stubborn to admit it. But anyone paying attention could see how much you care about him," he says gently. "Even I know that you're in love with him. We all do: me, Johanna, Annie, Madge…we all can see it. You've changed. Now before you try to argue with me, I don't mean it in a bad way. We all know how you are when it comes to accepting help, so that's why we had to go around your back to help you two finally get a second chance."

My snaps up and I stare back at him, blinking a few times in disbelief before narrowing my eyes. "What do you mean, went around my back to help us?"

Finnich laughs, and I launch that stupid rope of his back towards his face. To my dismay, he catches it and twirls it around in one hand while he rubs the back of his neck with the other. "Well, I guess I don't have to keep it a secret anymore, but my party, for starters."

"What are you talking about? I never mentioned to any of you guys when I was coming home, so how could you have had a hand in that?"

"Come on, do you think we're that stupid? Johanna and I knew all along when you were coming home. She talked to Prim, and I found out through Thresh who found out from Rue. Have you forgotten where we live? This town might as well have microphones hidden in every home. No secret is ever safe around here.

"But anyway, after you left Peeta high and dry after the party, didn't you think it was a little weird that Johanna, of all people, took you to the bakery to apologize to him? I knew he was working that morning so I told her to make sure that you stopped by. God, you really are clueless sometimes."

The thought did cross my mind a few times when things were falling oddly into place between Peeta and me. But I thought it was just a coincidence. Am I really that dense? Shit, I guess so. "Wait, so did he know that I was coming to the bakery that morning?"

"No. We still wanted you guys to make your own decisions and let things play out naturally between you two. We just wanted to, you know, nudge you in the right direction, that's all. When he told me that he asked you to the movies and that you actually said yes, I knew we wouldn't be sorry for what we did. Although, the arrival of Gale and that other dickhead ex of yours did throw us for a bit of a loop."

"Yeah, that was a little…unexpected. What are the odds that they'd both show up at the same time to ruin my life? Fuck my life, why am I the one who has to deal with this kind of shit?"

Finnick exhales a strained sigh. "You know what? You're not the only one that has shit to deal with, Katniss. And by some people's standards, your quote-unquote problem isn't really that big of a deal."

I scoff at the sudden edge of his remark. "So says the guy whose biggest problem is deciding on which type of beer to order for his next kegger." The smack of his hand on the armrest sends me jumping in my seat and my eyes widen in confusion.

"You know what? That wasn't fucking necessary. You're kind of being a bitch right now, you know that?"

I'm slightly taken back by the harsh tone that cuts through his voice. Fuck. I am being a bitch. That was a pretty low and uncalled for blow. Apparently I'm on a roll tonight. What is _wrong_ with me? But what the hell was that outburst for? Regardless of what it was, I know I'm the one who should be apologizing right now.

I look down at my feet, shame and remorse coming on strong once again. "Listen Finnick, I'm sorry. You're right that was harsh and I shouldn't have—"

"Annie's pregnant."

I whip my head back up in his direction. "She…she's what?"

"You heard me."

He looks back down to his lap and begins to work on a new set of knots along the length of that damned rope. I stare at him with my mouth gaping open for who knows how long, lost for words and utterly confused by how this could have happened.

"How is that even possible?" I eventually whisper, stilling his hands with mine in hopes of getting him to look at me.

Finnick laughs. "I'm pretty sure you know the logistics of how these things work."

"You know what I mean…is…is it…"

"Mine?" His hands stop and he pins me to the back of my seat with an incredulous stare. "Of course it's mine! Who else's would it be?"

I just nod my head in response, unsure of what to say really. From all my years of knowing Annie, she's never been one to sleep around, but who knows, I've apparently been out of the loop and oblivious on a hundred other things so far. Do I congratulate him? Fuck, he's only twenty-two…_she's_ only twenty-two! I didn't even know they were together…are they together? This doesn't make any sense!

"I didn't know you two were a couple."

"Well, we weren't when it happened."

"Which was?"

"Back in the beginning of April when we were both home for spring break. I saw her at the coffee shop downtown and on a whim asked her if she wanted to have dinner with me. It was kind of a joke really because she's always said "no" before and so I never expected her to actually say yes, but she did, and well…yeah…one thing kind of led to another and…"

"Boom…baby."

"Uh…yeah."

There's a long pause that neither of us cares to fill. Finnick sits back in his chair again and stares off into space as I study his face, trying to read his emotions. If I were him I'd be scared as hell. So why does he seem so calm and collected?

"When did you find out?"

"About a month ago, just a few days before we meet you guys at Louie's that one night."

Well shit, that makes sense now. Maybe if I didn't have my head in the clouds with all my self-inflicted drama from Gloss and Gale, I would have realized it sooner. Come to think of it, I haven't seen Annie with an alcoholic drink since I've been back, and the whole taking a year off school…oh god. Fuck. I just had to go and make that stupid ass comment about her always being the responsible one out of all of us. Way to put my foot in my mouth.

"So…I take it she's going to keep it?"

"Of course we are. We've talked about it a lot and we both think—no—we both _want_ to keep the baby."

"But…I just…wow, you guys had everyone fooled. So wait, have you two been together the whole time then since?"

Finnick chuckles and the edges of his eyes crinkle as he grins back at me, shaking his head. "After we hooked up, she kind of made it clear that it was a one-time kind of thing. Once we were back at school, she didn't bother to keep in contact with me, even though I thought about her every goddamn day and even tried to call her a few times. But when school finally ended and I started seeing her around town again, I think she realized that avoiding me was inevitable.

"I was actually kind of pissed that she didn't tell me about the pregnancy sooner. I think it was because she had it in her head that as soon as I got back to school that I'd start fooling around with random girls again. She did tell me later that the reason she ignored me was because she didn't want to "inconvenience" my lifestyle. Can you believe that? She even went as far as to say that she was seeing someone else, some jerk off friend of Thresh's, just to get me to move on, but that just pissed me off even more. A few nights before the bar though, she showed up on my doorstep and well…I wasn't letting her go a second time."

"How far along is she then exactly?" I try to do the math in my head but fail miserably given the slew of thoughts and emotions that are still running rampant through my mind. She can't be that far along—she's not even showing!

"She's in her fourth month. I know what you're thinking, she doesn't look it at all. She was really sick though for the first month or so, lost a bit of weight actually, but she's back on track now and the doctor said that from here on out she should start gaining weight again."

I'm slightly taken back by the calmness of Finnick's voice, and by how he seems to have matured by ten years since the last time we sat down and talked just a few months ago, in these exact same chairs. He goes quiet for a moment, his brows furrowed as he stares at the ground. I'm not sure if it's because he's waiting for me to say something or if it's because he's mulling something over in his mind.

Fuck, and here I was thinking I had problems. A baby is life-changing. Their lives will never be the same again after this. A million different questions run through my head, but I don't want to bombard him with all of them at once.

"Do you guys have a plan or something?" I ask gently, not wanting to add to the already apparent stress of the situation. "Annie already mentioned to me that she's not going back to school in the fall. Where is she going to go when the baby arrives? What about you?"

"Nah, I'm not going back to school either, but Annie convinced me to finish my degree online. We'll see though. I talked to my dad about everything already, and I was actually surprised that he didn't kick me out of the house. He even said he'd take me on as his apprentice for the landscape company and who knows, maybe he'll let me take over some day. My mom on the other hand, she took a bit longer to warm up to the idea but you know her, she's always wanted grandchildren."

As his words sink in, I can't help but notice the parallels from both Finnick and Peeta's futures. No wonder they've become such close friends: they're both headed down the same track pretty much. Minus the baby of course. Oh god, I can't even imagine what my life would be like right now if I was pregnant. Although, now that I think about it, Peeta would probably be ecstatic. He's born to be a father someday.

"I have this savings account that my parents made me contribute to since I was a kid," Finnick continues. "In retrospect, I'm kind of glad they forced me to. So this is where your Golden Boy comes in. He offered Annie and me the apartment over the bakery for when the baby comes."

Shit. I'm such a fucking moron. It all makes sense now. The boxes and the bag in Peeta's apartment. The packing. The mural being painted over. It's all so he can help out one of his best friends. How could I have been so stupid to jump to conclusions? I really fucked that one up.

I can feel Finnick's eyes on me as he studies me for a reaction, no doubt. When I finally build up the courage to look back at him, he raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to explain.

"Well…uh…I guess it makes sense now. I saw that he had some boxes in his room and it looked like he was packing…and the mural on his bedroom wall was painted over…and well…I guess I…."

"Let me guess, you jumped to conclusions and got it all wrong, am I right?" I nod and lower my head in embarrassment. "It's a shame really that he had to paint over that masterpiece; the guy's really talented, isn't he?" I nod my head again as I recall the beautiful forest he'd created out of thousands of tiny brush strokes. "That's his outlet you know, how he deals with the shit in his life. He said he used to have nightmares and that painting was how he calmed himself down enough to finally go back to bed.

"I remember when he started that thing. It was just before you came home and he used to work on it every night. You want to know what the interesting thing is? After you two finally hooked up, he didn't touch that painting for weeks…it wasn't until, well, after his parents said they were getting a divorce that he started working on it again."

I'm not a hundred percent sure what Finnick is getting at by telling me this, but I'd like to think that the reason he stopped working on his painting was because his stopped having nightmares. And that the reason he stopped having nightmares was, well…because of me. So I guess in a way I actually was helping him get through the shit that was going on in his life, even though I was obviously oblivious to the whole thing. I just wish he could have told me.

Finnick clears his throat. I'd almost forgotten where I was.

"So yeah, I'm gonna rent out the apartment for a year at least until, well, you know, I can get my shit together and get a place of our own and…" He trails off and drops his gaze to his lap.

"And? And what?"

He closes his eyes briefly and sighs. "I'm going to ask Annie to marry me."

Holy shit. How did we go from talking about my ridiculous jealousy and insecurity issues to babies and now to _marriage_? The composure of his voice though leads me to believe that he's thought long and hard about this; this isn't just some spur of the moment decision.

"That's…that's really amazing Finnick. Really, I'm so happy for you…for both of you…all of it."

He laughs softly and shakes his head. "Thanks for the enthusiasm, but I'll take what I can get from you. It feels good though, getting this all off my chest. We haven't told anyone else yet; hell, she still hasn't even told her parents."

"And how do you think that will go?"

"I have no idea really. That's why she's waiting for me to get my own place first, just in case they send her packing."

"That's really responsible. I'm proud of you, Finnick. There isn't any other guy our age that I know who would handle your situation the way you are now."

Finnick shoots me a look as if to say 'yeah right, you know as well as I do who else would be'. And just like that, we're back to me and my issues again.

"Listen, Katniss. I think you've calmed down enough to realize that walking out on Peeta tonight was a mistake. Fuck, seems like you both made a shit-load of mistakes, but believe me when I say that the guy knows you better than probably either Johanna or me; hell, I bet he knows you better than you know yourself sometimes. So why do you think he's let you call all the shots ever since you've started dating?"

I answer him with a slight shrug, knowing full well that he's going to tell me why regardless of how I respond.

"Because he doesn't want to scare you off. That's the guy's worst fear, of scaring you off again. He blames his mom you know, for ruining his chance with you back in high school. Just another reason on the already long list of why he hates her. But she's gone now, so then really, the only thing standing in the way between you and him is, well, you."

I nod as I consider his words. I can't really blame Peeta. I'm known to be skittish when things start to get complicated; the appeal of taking the easy way out and cutting my losses has always been my go to choice. But that has to change. I can't run away anymore. I don't want to run away from Peeta. I want to be with him. I love him.

As if on cue, Finnick clears his throat. "If I didn't know any better, I'd wager my first born that you've come to an epiphany." He winks before grinning back at me like a Cheshire cat. "Anything you want to admit now about Mr. Perfect?"

Just for the sake of it (and because I hate admitting that he's right), I roll my eyes and turn away to face the lake. "He's by no means perfect."

"You're right, he's not. But neither are you. So you're perfect for each other."

A shy smile creeps across my face and I know that I'm finally seeing things in a new light; the issues I thought that were deal breakers between Peeta and me don't really seem like issues anymore.

"Like I said, you can't keep holding onto the stuff from your past," Finnick says, his eyes turning serious as he leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "You need to talk to Gale and Gloss, get over whatever resentment you still hold towards them because only then will you be able to continue your relationship with Peeta with a clear head and an open heart."

Well, I'm actually thankful that I'm at least one step ahead of the game with his plan. Reconciling with Gale did actually seem to take an invisible weight off my shoulders, a weight I didn't really know was there until it was gone. And seeing him with Madge, I'm actually kind of happy that they've found each other. So I guess all that leaves left to deal with is Gloss. Hmmm…maybe that's easier said than done.

Feeling a hundred times better than when I arrived, I reach over and grasp Finnick's hand, squeezing it tightly for a brief second. "Thank you, Finnick. Honestly, I don't know what I'd do without you. When did you get so smart?"

"Psht…I've always been smart, you were just too dumb to notice."

Out of habit, I roll my eyes again, but it's quickly followed by a hesitant smile. "I should go apologize and set things right with Peeta." I lean forward in my chair to stand, but Finnick grabs hold of my arm and I freeze.

"Whoa there, do you really think it's a good idea to go barreling back over there right now? I don't. For all you know his dad's still there and yeah, do you really want to face the both of them after the stunt you pulled tonight? I think you should just go home, sleep on it, and then talk to him tomorrow."

"You're right." I release a deep breath and when he finally lets go of my arm, I stand and brush out my dress. Damn. This is the last time I'm every wearing a dress. I locate my keys on the ground and turn to face Finnick. "Guess should get going then."

"You okay to drive?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." He stands to walk me back to my car no doubt, but instead I pull him into a fierce hug. "Thank you, Finnick. For everything. And congratulations again. You're going to be an amazing father."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," he laughs as he tickles my side. "Now get out of my hair already." He releases me and shoos me away.

With a final wave, I round the corner of the house and make my way back to my car. Once behind the wheel, I remember that my phone is off. I'm tempted to check my messages, but something tells me to leave it be. It can wait until tomorrow. The last thing I need now is for something to set me off again. I shove my key into the ignition to start the engine, but nothing happens.

Fuck. Not again.

After a few more tries, I realize it's a lost cause so I gather up my things and lock the doors behind me. Not that it matters; it's not like anyone could get that thing to start even if they tried.

Finnick is still right where I left him just minutes ago. His eyes narrow in confusion when he notices me again. "What now?"

"Uh, my car won't start. Can you give me a ride home?"

He shakes his head and chuckles. "Damn, Katniss, do I have to do _everything_ for you?"

* * *

**Author's Note:** So like I said, this was actually supposed to be part of Chapter 23, but it got away from me, so I hope it answers some of your questions about why Katniss acted the way she did. I was actually very excited about writing this chapter because I was able to weave in so many of the actually lines from canon between Finnick and Katniss that actually worked well with this scene, so I hope you enjoyed them too.

A big thank you to **_Court81981_** for her speedy beta skills and encouragement, you rock!

I've noticed a few new readers to this story, so thank you for taking the time to follow/favorite my work, it means the world to me and I love hearing from you all!

As always, come and visit me on tumblr (pookieh) for fic updates/drabbles and my borderline obsessive love of The Hunger Games and Everlark fanfiction.


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